


Plan B is improvise

by Titels



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Magic, Mildly Dubious Consent, Smut, Thief!Harry, alternative universe, but mainly in the beginning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:20:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 62,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titels/pseuds/Titels
Summary: Harry, Ron and Hermione are thieves and con-artists. When their latest attempt fails and sends them fleeing, Harry stumbles unto something he shouldn't have. Of course this turns his life upside-down. But it's not all bad.In other words, an AU set in a loosely steam-punk based world where magic also exists.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 69
Kudos: 245





	1. The train

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, I was originally not going to post this until I finish my WIP, but I found myself writing almost two chapters in one go, so I figured, what the hell, let's see what people think. So this was written to be pretty much a porn with plot, but honestly it's looking to be pretty plotty, and one of the things I want to manage is to have at least some sort of action in every chapter :D So far, we're good.

“Come one, come all,” Ron shouted, dressed in bright red clothes and waving at people passing by. The cloth was hardly more than homespun wool, but the bright colour did the trick. “Try your wits and your luck against our master of agility. Are your eyes faster than his hands? Step right up and prove it!”

“Oh my, really..”

“So uncouth...”

Harry ignored the outraged whispers, letting his eyes glance over their true intended targets before moving on again, as if oblivious to their presence. The group of men were loud and boisterous, exactly the kind of people that fell for this kind of scheme. As Ron kept shouting Harry could see some of them breaking out of the group and coming toward their temporary stand. He caught sight of Hermione, brushing past them as if simply one of the many people passing by.

“What’s this then?” one of the men asked, voice theatrically loud. “A little side-show, eh?”

His companions laughed as the man used his superior height to bend over the table in an attempt to show who was the boss. Harry shrunk down on himself, playing along. The more secure the man was in his win, the easier it would be.

“Ah.. uh.. it’s, it’s a card game, sir...” Harry said, letting his voice waver. “The game,” he paused as the men shuffled, some of them yelling ‘card game, card game!’ in a mocking tone, “...uh, the game is to find the ace, see?” He held out the ace of spades. “Uh, the spade, that is. From the other aces.” He flipped the remaining 3 cards already laid out on the table, until all aces laid in a row.

“Yeah?” Harry could feel the smell of fire whiskey on the man’s breath as he leaned down, and the cringe wasn’t completely faked. “What’s the stakes, then?”

“T-ten knuts per guess… uh, if you get it right you win a sickle.”

The men laughed again.

“As expected from a child, eh?” someone stage whispered in the background. “A childish bet.”

Harry shifted and looked down on his feet, attempting to seem embarrassed.

“Don’t be hard on the boy,” someone else answered, “he looks barely out of school.”

In reality, Harry was nineteen, but it wasn’t exactly hard to seem younger. Especially not when he knew what audience to play to. Insecurity in his stance, unruly hair falling halfway across his eyes as if he didn’t have the sense to do something better with it. It didn’t hurt that he was short for his age, either.

“10 knuts you say...” The first man spoke directly to Harry again, “well, why not.” He pulled out his money pouch, began to count out the money. “Ah, you know what. Seems I only have sickles… so how about you give me three rounds for that, eh?” He was giving Harry what he probably believed to be a reassuring smile.

It was possibly an attempt to swindle Harry – Ha! – out of one knut, or a sad way of bragging that he was so rich he didn’t even carry any knuts. Either way, it didn’t matter.

Harry let himself do another shuffle and then nodded. “Alright… can I start?”

“Go ahead, boy.”

Harry flipped the cards over, stopping for a second and pointing to the spades before turning it as well. “This is the one you need to keep an eye on, sir.” And then he shuffled them, moving one card with each hand and moving them back and forth, across and around. It was a rather slow pace, really. Not as slow as it could be – too slow and it would be suspicious – but just fast enough for the man to believe that he had made a great accomplishment when he picked the correct card. Which he did, twice in a row. For each time, Harry pretended to become more and more nervous. But the last one he lost, and Harry didn’t miss the calculating glint in his eye.

Once the rounds were finished, Harry put a shaking hand into the pouch on his waist and made a show out of pulling out two sickles. He dropped them slowly on the table, pushing them slightly forward with his fingers.

“Uh, oh, congratulations...” He said, spying Hermione brushing past in the crowd again, closer this time. Ron was standing next to the table, silent now. He was doing a great job at playing fidgety, but Harry knew that sometimes his friend didn’t just act out his nerves. This was a simple enough job though that it couldn’t be anything but pretend.

The man put his hands over the sickles, but he didn’t take them. Instead he was looking at Harry with a gleam in his eyes.

“Hey boy, I can see this really upsets you, and I’m a kind man,” there was a spread of laughter at that again, and the man turned and fake glared at his friends, “I am! Ahem, anyway, so here’s what I’m suggesting, a way for you to get that money back. Maybe even more. What do you say?”

Harry blinked at him as if surprised. “Wh.. how?”

“It’s simple, really. We just change the rules a little. See now, instead of making one bet, we do an increase. So, for each play we both put in money, say five knuts, then for each time we play, we double it. So second time we put in ten, third 20. The winner of the final game gets all of it. Easy, yeah?”

Harry bit his cheek. “How… how long do we play?”

The man chuckled. “Good question kid, good question! Lemme see, shall we say ten games, or until I lose?”

“Ten?!” Harry widened his eyes and swallowed. “That’s… uh, that’s a lot of money.”

“Oh yes, but it’s a high reward for you. You can use it to.. whatever you’re doing this for. Be done in a jiffy.”

“It’s funding for our school...” Harry murmured, drawing his lower lip into his mouth. “But I guess, we could…uh, Andy… help me check...” Ron moved over and they bent over the pouch of money, “so if it’s five knuts first, but then ten, and ten times that’s...”

“Uh, I don’t know Steve…” Ron said, “that’s gonna be...”

“Hey, you boys know what?” The man interrupted, smiling down at them. “If I win, I’ll be fine with whatever you got in that purse there. We’ll call it even. But I’ll still give you the full sum, if you win. Sounds okay?”

Harry swallowed again, looking at Ron’s stricken face before nodding.

“No, Steve, come on! We can’t do that..!”

“It’s fine, Andy… promise. We’ll be the ones to bring back the most...” He gave him a shaky smile and Ron fell silent, even if he kept shaking his head.

“Brilliant, it’s a deal then!” The man held out his hand. “We shake on it, like men.”

“Oh..” Harry reached out and the man grabbed his hand, the larger one dwarfing his.

“Well then, line them up, boy!”

The man, Harry thought as he pulled out the pouch and put it on the table before flipping the cards, was rather cheerful for attempting to swindle school children out of money that was going to their school. And none of his friends seemed inclined to say anything against it either, which was what Harry had come to expect from that type of low-life scum. They might wear fine suits, but he could tell what they were from a mile away.

People were stopping now, trying to see what was happening. Harry could see some of the fine women and gentlemen wrinkling their noses in distaste at what was apparently happening, yet no one did anything to stop them. Moral enough to judge what the man was doing as horrible, yet not enough to step in. Maybe they should do a con on the aristocrats, after this was done.

He blinked the thoughts away, focusing on his role.

Like before, Harry started out slow, even if he was making a show of trying to go faster now. By the fifth turn the man hadn’t missed a single time and Harry let his hands begin to shake as he shuffled the cards around. By the seventh, the men were jeering and Harry made a show of dropping a card as he was moving it. It was no accident that the card was the spade.

The laughter that followed had him burning bright red and made the man put a consoling hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t let them bother you, son.”

Son, not boy, now that the man was so certain he’d be walking out of there with their money. Harry wanted to laugh, but kept it in. He almost couldn’t contain it when he spotted Ron doing the signal for Hermione to go ahead and pick-pocket the whole lot of them, but fortunately they mistook his choked down laugher for a panicked breath.

By the ninth round, the man wasn’t even trying to pretend to that he found it hard. It made it all the better to watch his face fall as on the tenth round, Harry flipped the card he had indicated and it was the wrong one.

“What the fuck?!” The man yelled, staring at Harry with disbelief as Harry blinked in mock surprise.

“I.. I.. Andy, we did it!”

“You did it!” Ron was cheering next to him, throwing his hands in the air and bouncing on the spot. “You did it!”

“The fuck you did!” The man roared, suddenly grabbing Harry by his shirt. “What the hell did you do you little cheater?!”

“Ch—cheater?!” Harry stumbled over the word. “I haven’t done anything!” But of course he had. Cheating a man so confident was only too easy, the man had barely paid any attention to what Harry was doing, so palming his extra card and switching them out had been a piece of cake.

“Who you trying to fool?!” The man was so mad he was almost spitting in Harry’s face. “I haven’t been wrong a single time, and now with the last one, I am? Yeah, you cheated alright!”

Harry was shaking his head, mumbling “no, sir, I promise,” even as he palmed his own pouch of money in preparation for any troubles.

Ron rushed around the table, grabbing the man’s arm. “Sir, please, we haven’t done anything!” but was met with an angry snarl and the man’s friend grabbing him and throwing him backwards into the crowd. As bad luck would have it, he was thrown straight at the spot where Hermione was picking a pocket, pushing her off balance and making her target _very_ aware that she was stumbling away with a pouch in her hand.  
“Hey!” The man yelled, “That’s my pouch!” 

Within a second Harry had dropped his act, twisting in the man’s grip to get out and pinching the bastard’s money while he was at it. He risked a glance to see that Ron and Hermione were already well on their way before Harry bolted as well, splitting up to later reconvene by the plaza.

It was a plan that usually worked well for them, splitting up and slipping away in the crowd, but the men that day were particularly stubborn and Harry didn’t manage to shake them off his tail. Neither, as it turned out, had Ron and Hermione. They met up on the side of the square, Harry joining the other two as they dashed past the steaming pipes of a bathhouse.

“What do we do?” Hermione panted, “we’re not losing them.”

Harry looked around, desperately trying to find something. And then he caught sight of it. Their salvation. They were just enough in the lead to manage it.

“Come on!” Harry shouted, pointing to the train slowly gaining speed just in front of them. “We can get away on that!”

He put on another burst of speed, ignoring Hermione’s outraged shriek to wait and Ron’s increased panting. The train was moving at a crawling pace, the steam still not hot enough to give it any real speed and catching up to it was easy. Despite their protests, Ron and Hermione made it without any particular issue. Unfortunately, so did two of the men chasing them.

“Fuck! Since when do old people run so fast?” Harry complained, still trying to catch his breath. “Let’s go!”

“Go without me,” Ron panted, “I only made it this far on the promise of no more running.”

“Don’t be a wimp,” Hermione caught him by the scruff of his neck,”come on!”

Harry went ahead, climbing up the ladder to the roof of the compartment, Hermione pulling Ron along after. They had just reached the middle of the carriage when the men appeared as well, still rushing but at a more apprehensive speed.

“Shit!”

They took off, rushing to the end of the compartment only to be faced with the gap to the next. Harry took the leap in the spur of the moment, and felt like he, for a brief second, was suspended across a great abyss. Then he was over, momentum making him stumble to all fours. It was the perfect view to see Ron and Hermione both freezing on the edge.

“Come on!” Harry yelled, but he could tell they weren’t going to do it. The train was accelerating quickly now and the wind blasting their faces would probably be enough to throw anyone off. “Shit… Alright, jump down!” He gestured downwards. “I’ll draw them away!”

He wasn’t completely sure this would work, but a part of him was still sure that it would. As the croupier in their rigged game, Harry had attracted the most ire, and he was certain they wanted to get their hands on him. Even if Ron’s red exterior was certain to draw the eye.

As Ron and Hermione scrambled down the edge and rushing into the compartment on the other side, Harry stood up and made a show of almost falling. There was a gleeful shout from not far off.

“We’ve got him, Trevor!”

Giving himself time to look back, Harry figured it was definitively time to go. The men were almost at the end of the roof and being taller and heavier they didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping. It was even possible that they knew some magic which would help them, but even if they did there thankfully hadn’t been any sign of projectile magic so far.

The slightly rounded roof was not the easiest of places Harry had ever ran across, but neither was it the hardest. While the men might have a longer stride, he had years of experience of running away from those stronger than him. For a while, that had been everyone. So he was confident he could get away.

The confidence lasted for as long as the train did, that’s to say, as Harry reached the jump to the final compartment he realised that after that, there was nothing but the engine and nowhere to run. Escaping onto a train had only been a great idea when he believed that no one else would have the time to reach it. Now it had instead become a trap. The train was rushing along at a frightening speed, so jumping off now would be equivalent to suicide.

For a brief moment Harry considered fighting. He knew he was bound to lose, but he’d never know without trying. But then he saw the burly man standing by the door to the final compartment. A guard, if Harry had ever seen one. But he wasn’t keeping a fixed post in front of it. Instead he was on the side, staring at the landscape passing by. If someone came from the other compartment, he was certain to notice, but he wasn’t looking _up_. And Harry could be sneaky.

Smirking, Harry took the jump, letting himself fall a little bit short and catching the edge of the ceiling, jutting out over the outside platfor, before dropping down. The guard didn’t react, and Harry snuck through the door as easy as nothing, swiftly sliding to the left once inside, so he would be behind the door if opened.

It wasn’t until that moment he let his eyes roam the compartment  that he realised that this wasn’t for transporting goods, and that the man in front of the door must not be a guard, but a bodyguard.

H is eyes met t hose of a man sitting alone in a comfortably padded seat, a journal on the table in front of him. His eyes were very grey, and his fine black eyebrow was raised in curiosity. 

“Please, don’t say anything!” Harry half mimed, half whispered as there was a commotion outside the door.

“Hey! You can’t go in there!” The bodyguard, yelled, voice as powerful as expected from his bulky build.

“We’re just after the brat that ran in there! Let us at him!”

“No one has got past me.” It was easy to hear the confusion in the guard’s voice. 

“He’s in there, we saw it! Just have a look!”

Harry’s eyes were still locked with the dark haired stranger, whose face had settled into a neutral mask. At the polite knock on the door the man broke it to stare at his guard.

“Yes?” A deep voice, refined accent.

“Uh, sorry to disturb, My Lord… Has there… Has anyone entered here?”

The man let out a deep sigh. “Wouldn’t you have stopped them, if they tried, Bartemius?”

“Of course, sir!” The man startled.

“Then what do you think?”

T he man looked startled and then gave a quick nod and a low bow. “I apologise for disturbing you, My Lord.” He closed the door to his shouts as he ushered the men away. 

Harry let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Uh,” He said, turning back to the man, “Thanks! You really saved me, there.”

“...Well...” the man said slowly, studying him. “Anything else would have been unchivalrous, don’t you think?”

Harry let out an awkward laugh.  Despite his own words, there was something about that man that set his teeth on edge. As if he had just got himself into a situation that was worse than before. Now that he thought about it, any person who could afford his own  carriage on a train – and not just a compartment, but a whole freaking  _carriage_ – wasn’t someone whose bad side he wanted to get on.

As he looked around further, Harry noticed how richly decorated it was. Unlike a normal train that would be lined with seating, there were only four seats on the right side of the compartment, two on opposite sides of a table. And they looked comfortable too, more like armchairs than train seats. The rest of the space was taken up by fully stocked bookshelves, a wine cabinet, a wardrobe of some kind and a walled area. Harry would have bet his right arm it was a private bathroom.

So the man probably didn’t just hire it, he probably owned it.

“Oh, so yeah, thanks again! I guess I really should be getting out of your hair...”

He started to edge toward the door, a quick endeavour all things considered, but was stopped before he had even managed to take more than a couple of steps.

“Leaving so soon? And here I was hoping to see more of your gratitude.” The man’s voice was playful and a small smirk was adorning his lips now.

Harry paused, considering. His gratitude? Was the man trying to hustle him for money? The idea seemed ludicrous. Still, he had to get his money from somewhere and probably wasn’t the picky type. He dug a pouch out of his pocket, the one he had filched. It was the more well-stocked one, but he figured that in this case, better not to get too greedy. It had been a good haul either way, Hermione had probably managed to grab a good four-five pouches.

“I mean, I don’t think I can give you anything that doesn’t pale in comparison to all this,” a sweeping gesture at the general area, “but I’ll give you what I can..?” The man laughed at him. It wasn’t exactly surprising, but it still stung. “Fine. What do you want, then?” He pocketed the pouch again.

The man stood and Harry realised that he was tall. Tall enough to feel as if he was towering above Harry even with the distance. Him getting closer didn’t make it better.

“You seem like quite a clever young man,” he said, “what do you think I want?”

The man’s eyes swept across Harry’s form and lingered for a moment at his lips. Harry swallowed, suddenly quite certain of what he wanted. While he wasn’t a complete novice in matters of the flesh, Harry would definitively not go as far as to say he was experienced either. A few brief flings with some girls he knew had been about it, all of them while drunk. He’d be hard pressed to provide details on what had happened, the memories were more like fuzzy sensations than actual recollection.

The man in front of him was definitively not a woman, nor was Harry drunk. He let his eyes sink lower, stopping at the bulge at the man’s crotch. Was it possible that the man was already excited, or was he simply that big? Harry didn’t want to consider it further, but was pretty certain he’d soon be well acquainted.

The tall lord took another step toward him and it broke Harry out of his trance. He reached out, grasping Harry’s chin gently and letting a thumb graze his lips.

“That’s right…”

He lowered his hand without letting go, lowering Harry to his knees. Harry’s heart was loud, so loud he couldn’t hear the rustle of cloth as the man freed his erection, and shifted his hand to rest on the back of Harry’s head.

He didn’t have to do this, Harry knew. Even if it angered the other, he would likely just have his guard call back the men and they’d beat the shit out of Harry. It wasn’t something he enjoyed, but neither did he fear it. There had been enough beatings in his life and all they did was to teach him to be faster, smarter. This time it would certainly teach him not to decide to jump on a moving train.

But he didn’t rise from his position, but instead raised a hand to touch the base, wrapping his fingers around it as he gave a tentative stroke upwards. It was smooth in his grasp, thicker than Harry’s own, but the feeling was familiar. And the barely there groan the man let out was somehow pleasing.

The realisation that he was really going to go through with it didn’t come until his head was gently nudged forward and Harry followed it, reaching out to place his lips gently on the tip. There was something almost exciting in the firm way he was being coaxed.

“Good...” The man said in a slow, deep voice. “Now open your mouth...”

Harry spread his lips, reaching out with his tongue and frowning at the strangely salty flavour. He leaned forward, letting the head pass through his lips. The hand tightened in his hair. Harry glanced upward. The man was looking at him, a pleased smirk across his lips. He twitched his hips and Harry almost startled at the movement and as the member pusher further into his mouth.

“You’re great at teasing,” the man laughed, “But if you want to get somewhere you’re going to have to move a bit.”

Harry tried, he really did. He could sort of remember Ginny laughing as she slid down his body, and then the feeling of the warm heat of her mouth around his erection. It had felt really good. He tried to mimic it, sliding further down on the shaft until he realised that that was it, he couldn’t go any further. Then he drew back, looking up expectantly to measure the reaction.

The man still looked more amused than aroused, even if his erection was telling. He watched Harry bob his head a couple of times before Harry suddenly found himself being moved, hands guiding his head, faster and deeper than he had been going. The vigorous movement had him put his hands on the other’s hips to stabilise himself, and his left landed on a small bulge in the pocket.

There was a groan from above him and then the hips were thrusting back at him, forcing the erection deeper and leaving him gagging.

A small eternity passed until the motions began to stutter slightly, and Harry was horrified to feel hot liquid in his mouth as the man slowly pulled out the softening member.

“Ghack!” Harry leaned to the side, bracing his hands on the floor as he coughed. The sperm mixed with his spit staining the carpeted floor. There was a sudden realisation that he had not gone unaffected and was sporting the beginnings of an erection. “Shit.”

“You know,” Harry’s supposed rescuer said, “It’s considered more polite to swallow.” He was grinning and had already tucked himself away.

Any regret Harry might have had for the mess disappeared in a second. He scowled and got up, slipping his hand into his pocket.

“Hopefully that was enough ‘gratitude’ for you.”

“Well, it will do for now, I suppose. A bit inexpertly done, but nothing that a bit of training wouldn’t take care of.” He was still grinning, widely. “As a new friend, I’d be happy to teach you the nuances of it.”

“Friend? You’re not my.. shit!”

The realisation that, once booted from the carriage, the men were most likely hunting down his actual friends, hit Harry hard.

“I got to go!”

The man inclined his head. “I suppose that could be granted. Let me open the door for you, so dear Barty doesn’t shoot your head off. It would be a pity.”

Well, that would indeed be a pity. Harry stood aside as the man strode to open the door, making a flourishing gesture for Harry to go ahead.

Harry was out and on the next cart before the guard even had the chance to let out a squeak of surprise and, upon spotting the men through the window in the door, dashed up to the roof to make his way across.

From behind him, someone shouted “..What the?!”, but he was already jumping down to peer through the window on this side. The men weren’t looking in his direction, apparently in discussion with each other on what to do, the people in the cart giving them disapproving glances. There was no immediate sight of Ron or Hermione.

As Harry watched, a man got up from his seat and headed back and Harry just had the time to push himself flat against the wall before he strode through the door and disappeared to the other compartment.

Through the still open door, Harry heard a whisper.

“That was close, ‘mione!”

Easing his way out, Harry scuttled to the other side to peer inside. The men were still focused on their conversation and Harry managed to catch sight of a foot beneath the clothed table that held coffee for the passengers. He scurried inside, startling half a scream out of Hermione as he rushed in.

“Shh!” he hissed, “it’s just me.”

“Oh, Harry..” Hermione began, but stopped as a loud voice asked, ‘what was that?’

They all froze and from their limited vantage point Harry tried to listen for any footsteps. But there was enough noise from outside of the door to make that impossible.

The sudden appearance of two sets of feet striding past had his heart skip a beat, and it took him a second to realise that they were going the wrong way.

“Humph, excuse me!” The voice was haughty and nasal and quite close. Harry dared a quick peak from behind the tablecloth and saw a man in uniform talking to their pursuers. “Can I see your tickets, please.”

“Tickets..?”

“Hey, listen, we don’t have no tickets, but we ain’t here to stay. We’ve been chasing these damn thieves and one of ‘em is in the next train, but they wouldn’t let us entry, yeah? So instead of nagging us about this, why don’t you do something about that, eh?”

“The next train… ah, carriage you mean.” A pause and then. “The next carriage?!”

Harry dared another peek and saw him pointing forward in the train. The men nodded.

“Sirs, please tell me you have not bothered the passengers of that carriage.”

“What about it? We just need to find this thieving brat. Took our wallets, he did. So go on now, get us in there.”

The train manager shook his head. He was pale.

“You don’t have tickets and you’ve been bothering our most gracious patron. I… this, now, we can’t have this.” He pulled a stone out of his pocket and ran his finger over a sigil etched into the surface. It lit up with a green light. “John. We have some freeloaders here. Please slow down so I can get rid of them.”

“Hey, what now?!”

There was a crackle and then a voice as clear as day, “Alright, give me a moment.” A whistle blew and there was a shudder as the train began to slow down.

“Hey, what the heck you think you’re doing!?” The men were shouting, and one had grabbed the lapels of the manager’s uniform.

“Let go of me, sir.”

The man didn’t let go, instead he gave the man a shake. The train manager didn’t seem phased by this, unlike the thought of his _precious passengers_ being disturbed. Instead he snapped his fingers and the man was forced a couple of steps back. He kept snapping them and the men were forced backward through the carriage and ushered toward the door. The stone in his hand glowed for each snap.

“Alright, this is our chance!” Harry whispered to his friends. “When they slow down enough we just jump off on the other side and hide. I don’t fancy travelling back from wherever the next stop is, do you?”  
Harry waited long enough for his friends to nod before looking out and noticing everyone focusing on the ruckus the men were putting up.

“Come on!”

They snuck out through the door Harry had entered, waiting on the platform until the train had slowed enough that they felt comfortable jumping off. There was nothing but forest around them, so hiding was easy. They stayed still in the shrubbery until they heard the men wander off, swearing wildly.

Harry grinned at his friends. “I told you it’d be a good idea, didn’t I?”

Hermione and Ron both groaned.


	2. Making changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love for the last chapter! <3

Harry was running, once again. Rushing past tall stone buildings steaming smoke and clattering cogwheels, a part of him wondered if they were bad at what they were doing, considering the amount of times he found himself running to escape. Another part of him was thrilled, high on the adrenaline of the chase. So maybe he wasn’t so much bad as it was on purpose so he could thrive on this thrill. If Hermione ever found out it was the latter she would kill him.

“Hey! Get back here you scoundrel!” The man chasing him was shouting, anger clear in his voice.

The man was larger than him – when where they not? – but it only served as a disadvantage in this crowd. Even if the man shoved people out of his way, and to judge by the shouts of outrage coming from behind Harry, he was, it only served to slow him down. Harry was fast on his feet and he had been running through crowds half his life. Getting away from a man like this was nothing. Harry knew he would have lost him in no time.

Just as that gleeful knowledge began to settle into his bones, someone stepped into his path and Harry had to make a quick swerve to avoid running straight into the tall man. But he wasn’t fast enough to avoid the hand that seemed to come out of nowhere and pluck him by the arm. His own speed worked against him then, and Harry cursed as instead of running forward he found himself spun in a half-circle and smacking straight into someone’s back. He didn’t even have the time to see who he had run into before he was pulled back and held fast against a firm chest.

“Hey!” Harry yelled, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

They spun around again, despite Harry’s best efforts, and he found himself face to face with the man who had been hunting him. The walrus of a man grinned maliciously at the sight of him, but as he took in the full sight his reddened face became pale.

“Oh..!” He breathed, “My lord, I, uh, it’s an honour!”

Harry blinked, and for a moment even forgot that he was trying to free himself. Who the hell was holding him? Stretching his neck back as far as it could go, and when it turned out that it wasn’t very far, turning it to the side, Harry glanced up at the man who held him. And promptly understood why the man had paled, even as he himself blushed bright red.

“Why are you here?!” Harry demanded, and the walrus huffed in outrage.

“How dare you speak to our Lord in such a manner?!”

“Please, Gregory,” The voice was familiar too, running down Harry’s spine like liquid honey, “It’s quite alright. I’ve been meaning to get my hands on this little thief for quite some time, so I must thank you for chasing him into my arms.”

“Oh, no, Sir, please, it was my pleasure! I’m only glad to have served you in any way I can.”

Harry didn’t think he had seen so much bowing and scraping in his life. Not even Draco talking to his daddy could compare to that.

“Well,” Harry said, and was pleased to note that the man had relaxed his grip slightly as Harry stopped fighting, and if he played his cards just right, he would easily be able to slip away. “As honoured as I am that you’d come looking for me,” he grimaced inwardly, “I do believe there’s nothing for us to discuss. So...” He paused, enjoying the outrage on the walrus’s face, “I guess this is goodbye?”

Without waiting for a reply, Harry twisted and let himself sink downwards, easing himself out of the man’s grip with practised ease. Practising how to do this together with Ron turned out to really pay off now. And Ron had said it would be a waste of time.

Harry snorted to himself as he took off running, once again criss-crossing around the people going about their daily life. The man from the train might be a lord, but Harry knew that this was his territory, and he was damned if he was going to let the other get the best of him again. Last time had been a fluke, a mistake. It didn’t matter if Harry sometimes dwelled on what had happened when he was alone at night. That was nobody’s business but Harry’s.

He could hear the walrus raging behind him, but the other man was oddly silent. Perhaps he was too dignified to shout like a commoner.

Harry rushed on, not wasting any time looking back. If he had, he might have seen the way the man tilted his head as he watched him go, a small grin across his lips.

  
  


“I’m telling you,” Harry said, for what felt like the hundred time, “I was running a con, but the guy recognized me.” At the look on Hermione’s face, he continued. “No, I don’t know from where. I’m sure we haven’t actually scammed him before, but maybe he’s been in the background, what do I know. I can’t keep track of every single person in a crowd, ‘Mione!”

She sighed, and shook her head, making her bushy mane of hair dance.

“I’m not blaming you for anything, Harry.” She said, gesturing for him to sit down. “I know you know what you’re doing. It’s just.. that could be bad. We can’t keep going like we have been if people will start recognizing us now. It’s not safe.”

“It’s never been safe.”

“You know what I mean. There’s always been a calculated risk, and yes, sometimes accidents happens that put us on the spot, but overall it’s been fine. But now we can’t go around worrying that someone will recognize us, putting the entire con at risk before we even get started.”  
“So what are you saying?” Ron chimed in from where he was lounging on their couch. “We can’t stop doing it, or, you know...” He made a slitting motion in front of his throat.

“I’m not saying we’re going to stop!” She let out another sigh. “But it might be time for a small change, is all. How do you boys feel about getting a haircut?”

There was a gleam in her eye and it made Harry balk. He knew it had been a bad idea to tell her, but he needed an explanation for coming back empty-handed and running into the train guy had left him flustered and he had straight up forgotten to come up with another excuse. He had never quite told them what happened on the train, and he wasn’t planning on it. So it would have needed to be a real good explanation, Hermione could smell a lie from a mile away and he was already leaving out any mentions of the lord. Besides, letting her know was the best option. They couldn’t exactly keep operating if things kept up. But still, a haircut?

Harry wrapped his fingers around his ponytail, attempting to protect it. But the look Hermione gave him left him unable to do anything but say:

“You’re starting with Ron first, right?”

“Hey!” Harry carefully avoided the justifiably betrayed tone in Ron’s voice. And then he looked away as Hermione dragged him to the bathroom.

“Harry!” She said, at the threshold, “Don’t go anywhere.”

For a moment, he considered escape. It would be easy enough just to slip away now. But Harry knew it was for the best. And more-so, he knew that he would have to come back sooner or later and he’d rather not anger his friend for being right. Again.

Sighing, Harry flung himself down on the couch, resting his head against the armrest. The couch was old and threadbare, any colour having faded to leave nothing but a greyish tint, but it was still comfortable. And it was the only one they had and buying a new one would be a terribly frivolous waste.

In the future, Harry and Ron would say, musing dreamily about that glorious day, in the future they would be able to use their money as they pleased. Their so-called dues would be paid off and they could dare to keep some of their hard-earned money to themselves. A nice dress for Hermione, a better couch, and occasionally even letting themselves dream about having an entirely new apartment. On the good side of town, comfortably cool in the summer and warm during the winters. Where the windows were more than a suggestion.

Harry shook his head. It was a nice dream, but it was far from reality right now. They had barely made a dent in their debt, and with the outrageous rates Malfoy was charging, whatever they paid back never seemed to make a difference. Their last big heist had helped them immensely, but they were already running out of their savings and losing this con had been bad. They would really need to get something else together and quick, or they would be forced to pick-pocket day and night to scrape together enough to cover everything.

On the couch, Harry sighed deeply. This wasn’t good. If only he hadn’t run into that man from the train… actually, if he was being honest the gig had been up already before that. The moment that fat man had recognized him the game had been up. Not that there had been much to do about it, but… Getting caught had been painful to him, not so much physically as a blow to his skill. Harry _never_ got caught by people chasing him and he was usually able to spot anyone attempting to block his way from a mile away. Yet he hadn’t noticed, much less recognized, the tall man before it was already too late. That hand that grabbed his wrist had been firm, the soft skin belying the underlying power.

Harry raised his wrist, looking at it critically as he grabbed it with his other hand. Firmly. A small shiver worked its way down his back and it made him remember the train, the feeling of hands grasping his hair, hard enough to feel it against his scalp. A small moan threatened to escape.

Shit. It wasn’t the time for this, his friends were right there in the other room. Harry could hear Ron protesting loudly as Hermione snipped away at his hair.

But the warmth against his back from the man, his arms holding Harry close – and had he been running his fingertips gently on Harry’s bicep as he forced him to still? As much as he wanted to deny it, the thought had him stiffening and he swallowed deeply as his hand, almost on its own, snaked down to stroke himself outside of his trousers. The memory of the lord’s laugh urged him on, Harry could almost hear him whispering.

“ _You’re great at teasing, aren’t you?_ ”

“Fuck..” Harry whispered, throwing a quick look to the bathroom door before letting his hand slip inside of his trousers and pants. He was so hard now, and just running into the man had him imagining other scenarios. Maybe this time the other would be the one on his knees, chuckling as he slipped Harry’s pants down, hissing _“good”_ as he took in Harry’s full erection, the breath tickling against the sensitive skin. And Harry would twist his hands in the man’s hair, but even so the lord would shrug away his attempts of control, taking Harry in his own time.

“Ahh..” Harry bit down his moan as his hand worked faster, eyes clouding at the thought of that proud man on getting on his knees to please him. If his friends had walked out at that moment, Harry wouldn’t have been able to stop.

Thankfully they didn’t and it wasn’t long before Harry finished, tipping over the edge as he imagined hands squeezing down on his hips and that pleased smile.

After a moment his other hand found its way into a hidden pocket in his shirt, pulling out a golden locket. The fine chain it hung on slipped like silk between his fingers and the locket itself hung heavy and swinging slightly, crystals glittering in the light. Harry hadn’t been able to get it open, but he had spent hours gazing at the finely carved snake, almost unable to take his eyes off it. It was an expensive item, clearly made by the best of artisans.

If Harry had seen it before nicking it out of the lord’s pocket, he would never have taken it. It was too valuable to be easily sold off, and too valuable for even a man that rich to ignore. The last had proved itself, after all. The man himself was here now, and despite Harry’s own fantasies on the matter, it wasn’t to continue their train tryst.

With a sigh, Harry one-handedly wrapped the chain around his fingers, until the locket laid in the palm of his hand and he dropped it back into his pocket. It was a shame, but he would have to return it. They already had too many troubles, and neither Ron nor Hermione deserved to get another, just because Harry wanted to keep a valuable trinket. No, he would find where the man was staying, break in and leave the locket to be found. After that, the lord would have no need to come after them.

When Hermione came out to get him, Harry had managed to wipe his hand off on one of his used socks. He’d be sure to wash it thoroughly later. He still didn’t feel completely clean, but at least there was no physical evidence for Hermione or Ron to spot.

“So, any idea how you would like to look?”

Harry smirked at Hermione in their cracked mirror. “I’d like to be gorgeous, the most attractive man you’ve ever seen! Or wait… nevermind, you’d just make me look like Ron.”

That earned him a light slap on the side of his head.

“If you don’t have any suggestions, then I guess I’ll decide for you.” It was Hermione’s time to smirk. “I hope you’ve said your goodbyes to this ponytail.”

Harry paled as the first snip severed several inches of hair.

  
  


When Hermione finally opened the door to let Harry out he shook his head roughly, trying to get used to the feeling of the short strands of hair going every way. Hermione had tried to tame it, but it had proven impossible. So instead she had thrown together some home-made kind of bleach to lighten his hair until it was a dark brown. Harry’s skull still stung a bit.

“Woah!” Ron said, sitting up in the couch where he had been previously lounging. “Damn, I barely recognise you! Without your black hair you could basically be anybody.” He wasn’t one to talk, as Hermione had transformed his – otherwise very obvious red hair – into a decent looking dark brown.

“Sure, thanks for that...”

“It’s actually a good thing, Harry,” Hermione chipped in, “In our business, at least. Looking like anyone means no one will recognize you.”

“As long as they don’t stop to stare deeply into your eyes.” Ron inflected. “That colour is a bit obvious, don’t you think mate?”

“If you know of any way to change my eye colour, feel free to let me know.”

Ron only shrugged and threw himself back on the couch. “So, watcha doing with your hair, ‘mione?” Then he suddenly raised himself on his elbows. “Can I cut it?!”

“Not on your life!” Hermione almost screeched. “I don’t want to go around with a bald spot!”

Ron frowned.

Harry swallowed and took a step backward. “Uh, so, uh, you want me to..?”

“You’re both ridiculous. I’m a girl, I don’t need to cut it.” She grabbed her mane of hair, twisting it round and holding it to the top of her head, keeping it still for their benefit. “See?”

“That’s not fair!” Ron bellowed, and Hermione just laughed.

“I do however need to colour it. Let’s go with the bleach for me as well. Ron, help me out?” The boy sighed, but got up. “Oh, Harry, in the meanwhile...” She stopped for a moment, thinking. “We better get rid of our old disguises. Check if you can’t replace it at the market.”

Harry nodded. Their disguises, as she called it, ranged from the rags of a beggar to outfits worthy of a wealthier merchant. They had been collecting them for a while now, but it would be dangerous to keep re-using the same clothes. Harry gathered most of it up in a large sack, leaving the most worn and tattered clothes behind. He didn’t think anyone would look twice at a beggar.

Running a hand through his hair, Harry frowned. It was good that Ron had barely even recognized him, but it was strange and he almost felt naked without his ponytail. His hair was getting in the way as well, some of it rushing to fall into his eyes as he looked around.

Still… he supposed it was time to see how well his disguise worked. With a grin, Harry grabbed the bag and headed out.

The market had no other name as it was mostly a jumble of stalls and blankets and things for sale. It was unsanctioned by the city of Tutshill, and raided regularly, but that never stopped the merchants from coming back. It was the best place to get things, or get rid of things, that you didn’t want people to know about. Especially if you had the privilege of knowing some of the merchants. And Harry did.

The Weasley twin’s put up shop in one of the larger buildings, but did their business out a side window in a small alley. They dealt in a little bit of everything, had a hand in every pie and had a contact network that they claimed spanned across all the isles and a little further. Whether that was true or not, they were also Ron’s brothers and had been their trusted allies since a long time back.

“Harry!” Fred greeted him as the red-head opened the door next to the window, ushering him inside. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Harry smiled back at him and threw the sack down on the floor. It landed with a thud and spread enough dust to have them both coughing.

“Ack! Her-ugh-hermione’s right, you know? You really do need to clean up in here.”

“Really?” Came the voice of George from his right. “You came here to tell us that?” The twin went up and stood next to his brother, identical expressions of disappointment etched on their faces.

Harry laughed. “Not a good enough reason?”

They shook their heads. “Not nearly good enough, Hermione herself comes by” George started, only to have Fred finish with, “At least once a week to tell us that. We expected better from you.” A pause, then George spoke again. “Or, like Hermione would have said, we expected worse.”

“Well, you’re in luck then.” Harry pointed to the bag and the brothers were on it like a cat on a mouse. “Came here to trade.”

“Aw, Harry,” one of them spoke, “this is just clothes. We were hoping for something a little bit more exciting.”

Harry shrugged. “What can I say? We found an urgent need to switch things out.”

“Yes, that’s obvious.” Both twins were now so deep in the bag their voices came out muffled. “Your new haircut speaks a story of its own.” At that, Harry touched his hair self-consciously. “As well as the sudden attention.”

“What?” Harry blinked. “What attention?”

They emerged from the bag and looked at each other for a moment. “Well, Harry-kins… Let’s just say you’ve been real popular these last few weeks.”

Harry stared at them. “What? Why?”

“Someone’s been going around asking questions, and from what we can tell, this is someone you don’t want to get involved with. Nasty fellow, when you start looking a bit deeper.”

He had a bad suspicion that he knew exactly who they were talking about. “So, uh, what are they asking about?”

“Oh?” George grinned at him, “you don’t want to know who’s been digging up dirt on you?”

“No...” Harry shook his head and grimaced. “I’m pretty sure I know who. Although a name would be useful.”

The twins looked at each other again, before turning back. “Oh, what did you do?”

Harry really hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “None of your business..!”

“Ah, but dear, dear Harry-kins,” they walked over to each side of Harry, putting an arm over his shoulder and bending their heads together. “Don’t you know? Everything is our business.”

They stared at him, for long enough that Harry felt uncomfortable enough to blurt out: “I stole something from him, okay!? I mean, I didn’t really mean to but it just happened in the spur of the moment...” Then he quickly shut his mouth, least he tell them more.

The silent stare continued for a minute longer and then they bent at the wrist, releasing Harry as the twins bent over in laughter. Harry stepped back a step, leaving them to it. He looked around the familiar interior of their shop, taking in the numerous shelves littered with knick-knacks of various kinds. Magical stones laid next to cheap jewellery and what looked like regular beans and pieces of cloths. There didn’t seem to be any order to it, but Harry knew that the twins were perfectly aware of every item in there and had on multiple occasions fetched any item he needed on under a minute. It was a marvel.

A deeper gasp signalled to Harry that they were almost done laughing and he looked back at them, sat on the ground and their faces almost matching their hair.

“Are you done?”

“Oh, you can’t blame us for that!” Fred said, while George howled, “How do you just happen to steal something from Lord Riddle?”

Harry frowned at them. “Who?” The name meant nothing to him, there existed hundreds of lords on the isles, all sitting on too much money.

“Well, you probably wouldn’t recognise him by name. He’s a pretty new lord, as far as these things go. Apparently he got granted the title for “proving his loyalty to the state”, which in this case means he helped take down Grindelwald. But...” George paused. “Things didn’t quite add up, when we started to look into it. It’s like all information on his past has been erased, except for a few details, all very above board. Suspiciously clean, you understand. And the timing of his appearance and the company he keeps when the nobles aren’t looking… well, they point to him having connections with Lord Voldemort and his sycophants.”

Harry shuddered. Everyone knew about Lord Voldemort. He had risen in the power-vacuum of Grindewald’s imprisonment, taking over as the ruler of the black market and the underground. They said his followers, the Death Eaters, were all a bunch of fanatics who would follow him into death. Apparently he called himself ‘Lord’ as a mockery to the ruling class of the isles, and it was whispered that it revealed that his true intent was to rule over them all.

Honestly, Harry had never seen hide nor hair of him in Tutshill, and the rumours had become more of a scary tale you told children at night, rather than an actual threat. Still, there was no doubt that he existed, and having caught the attention of one of his men… probably leaned toward being a problem.

“That’s… not good.”

“Oh, you think?” Fred sighed, shaking his head. “Harry, whatever you do, you gotta be careful. You don’t want this kind of attention.”

“No, I know… And I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

The twins looked sceptical. “What are you going to do?”

“I’ll return it.” They blinked at him. “The thing I stole. I haven’t got rid of it yet, so I’ll return it. Just tell me where he lives.”

“Mate, I don’t want to burst your bubble, but do you really think that’s a good idea?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. But it’s the best I got!”

Fred and George exchanged a look. “Guess it is… but don’t you get caught while doing it, you hear?”

“Of course not! I’m not a novice.”

“No, but you are basically our stupid little brother...” They grumbled. “Oh. And whatever you do, don’t let freaking Malfoy find out.”

“Yeah, no, not in the plans. It’s not going to happen.”

“Right.” They paused. “Well, I guess we can’t do much more than that. Let us get these rags exchanged, huh?”

Fred grabbed the bag and dragged it off, further into the store, while George stayed to fill Harry in.

“Okay, so they say he lives in the top suite of the Hellevia, got the entire floor to himself and his bodyguards. Surprisingly few, which is good news for you. But it’s definitively warded with magic, so you know, better be careful.”

Harry nodded. The Hellevia was the fanciest hotel in town, so it wasn’t a surprise that the lord had chosen that as his residence. And of course, they provided magical protection, as well as physical. But Harry had been there before and they had a weakness. They only guarded the windows and doors, believing themselves safe as long as the obvious points of entries had been blocked. It was arrogant and it was stupid. Because high up, close to the roof, there was a vent. It was large enough for a smaller man to get through. And Harry could shimmy through tight spaces like no one else.

“I’m always careful.” Harry answered.

“Sure, like that time you were going to place incriminating documents in the pocket of a visiting ambassador and you _fell_ on top of him? Good thing that man was dumb as a rock, or he would have made the obvious connection.”

“Shut up!” Harry moaned, That was years ago. I wouldn’t do such a stupid mistake now!”

“Come on Harry, let’s face it. You’re clumsy. That’s just the way you were born, and we love you regardless. But as such I have to ask you to please be careful.”

Harry sighed. “I will be.”

“Good.” Fred said from behind him, coming back with the sack. “Now, here’s your new clothes.”

“Thanks. What do we owe you?”

Fred made a gesture like he was chasing a fly away. “Please, you think we don’t know how to do our job? Your old rags will be sold for twice what they are worth. All we need is the right customer.” He grinned at Harry.

“Right, so I guess these clothes are only worth half of what I gave you, then?”

They all laughed.

“Of course, what else could you possibly expect?”

After that they ushered Harry out, telling him he was in the way of business. Harry didn’t argue, dragging the sack up on his back and exhuming the air of a tired worker taking his final load before the day ended. No one gave him a second look, which was exactly the plan. And when he came back, Hermione even approved of the outfits. At least more or less.


	3. Settling matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope this chapters is up to standard. I've been fiddling with it and rewriting parts and I'm just not sure how happy I am with it in the end... But at least it's long, so that's something :)

Once Hermione and Ron had settled down for the night, Harry sneaked out of bed and pulled on his clothes. At this point he figured that maybe he ought to tell them, but it didn’t sit right with him. Besides, this would be a simple thing. All he needed to do was go to the hotel roof, and if he was lucky, the man would keep a window open and he could simply throw the locket inside, but even if he wasn’t, he would just sneak through the ventilation and let it drop through there. Then this business would be over and done with, Lord Riddle would forget about his existence and they could go back to the important things – getting enough money to pay Malfoy from breathing down their necks.

Harry nodded to himself and made his way out into the night. In this part of town, most people appreciated the lack of street-lamps, and the few that existed had long since been smashed. So it was painfully easy to make his way unseen until he arrived at the richer quarters. But even in that place there were plenty of dark alleys and paths to take. Harry knew them all like the back of his hand.

The streets were quiet this time, no noisy people and most of the cogwheels had been stopped for the night. In this area, at least. Over in the poor quarters the cogs never stopped turning, to provide power for those who couldn’t afford lighting their houses by magical means. And for those who were paid to live with the noise so they didn’t have to. Which was almost everyone. Harry couldn’t remember a single night without the clanking of gears and the hiss of steam. Because of this it had always made him uncomfortable to be in the richer quarters during night. The silence seemed to echo around.

He shook it off, and when he was a few houses away from the Hellevia he began to climb a dark and silent building. He needed to be as high up as possible, so he could make the jump to the hotel. The Hellevia was taller than most buildings around it, and it didn’t lay by any convenient dark alleys. So the best thing to do would be to get up high and then jump across, letting the height stop people from seeing you.

Well up on the roof next to the hotel, Harry began to sprint and pushed of at the edge, flinging himself over to the building. He grabbed hold of a stone windowsill, tensing his body to land as gently as possible. There was still an impact and he froze, waiting for any movements from inside. When nothing happened he began to climb, going slightly to the left to take a path next to the windows, instead of across them.

He made it to the top floor and peered through a window. It was by a hallway, lit by magical lanterns and with no one in sight. Still, it was closed and the wrong place.

Harry climbed sideways to the next window, and then the next after that. They were both firmly closed and revealed a bathroom and a dining room. He would have been happy to have left the locket in the dining room, but the window was closed. So he continued, in the fourth window was what looked to be the servants room, and two men snoozed inside. Their window actually was open, just wide enough to drop a necklace through, but it didn’t seem right. What if their lord accused them of theft?

Shaking his head, Harry continued. He made it past an empty sitting room and another bathroom before his eyes landed on what clearly was the master bedroom. The bed was covered in heavy drapes which were firmly shut. Unlike the window.

The glass pane stood open just a hands breath, but it swayed in the wind and clearly hadn’t been locked into place. To actually get in the room would have been child-play and Harry was, he had to admit, tempted. He felt like rummaging around those drawers to see what treasures he could unearth. Of course, it was that kind of instinct that had brought him here.

“Come on, Harry,” he mumbled to himself, the words barely there. “Not the time.”

Instead he opened his jacket and took out the locket. It felt warm in his hand, a strange sensation in comparison to his chilled skin. Even now it glittered in the light and the eyes on the snake caught him, like they did every time he looked at it.

He didn’t want to… he didn’t want to let it go. What was the point of trying to get a stupid, ponce lord off his back? He had made his way out of worse troubles. And this locket… wouldn’t it be worth it? God, he could almost get people to pay to see it, that’s how amazing it was. The way it sparkled and shone. The snake almost felt alive. Was it even more beautiful now in the night? Maybe it was the magical light that had that effect. Or maybe it was the very dim light coming from the stars. Either way, he didn’t think he could take his eyes off it.

Harry wasn’t sure how long he clung to the side of the building, staring at the jewellery. But he knew it had been too long when his leg cramped and lost the footing, almost sending him plummeting to his death. The motion broke his stare and as he caught himself, Harry wondered what the hell he was doing. Admiring that damned locket while clinging to the side of a building. It was a sure way to get himself caught. No wonder the twins called him clumsy.

As soon as he got his grip back, Harry threw the locket inside without looking at it. Still, as his fingers let go of the chain, Harry found himself reaching out to try and grab it. But his throw had been too good, and the chain was already halfway across the room. It bounced once on the carpeted floor before stilling, still glimmering. From what, Harry didn’t know, because the room was dark.

Harry rustled himself, annoyed at his own distraction and began to climb around the window and up. Once on the roof he simply jumped back down on one of the lower buildings, running across the flat surface until he could let himself disappear down an alley.

Regret at throwing away his beautiful locket pounding in his chest all along.

  
  


When Hermione woke him up the next morning, Harry found himself in an awful mood. It didn’t get better with breakfast, possibly because she wasted no time in bringing up their current situation, as if they weren’t well aware.

“Alright, we’re going to have to go back to the basics.” She nodded at them. “Our scheme fell through, so if we’re going to be able to pay our dues to Malfoy in three days we’re going to have to work hard. Spread out, go for the easy targets. We need another...” she looked down on their money pouch, placed in the middle of the table like a fist to the gut, “well, another fifty galleons, give or take.” She looked at their disgruntled faces. “Just be happy that we had so much left over from the last time. I told you it would be better to keep some and not try to pay extra.” The last bit was aimed at Ron, and he glared back at her.

“Well, I still think he might have agreed on a smaller sum this month, if we had given him more.” He answered grumpily.

“Yes, or he would have decided that we had the capability of paying him _more_ every month.” Hermione replied snidely. “And then where would we have been, hmm?”

Ron stuffed his face with the last of the porridge and made a face.

“Great.” Harry hadn’t stopped frowning since he got out of bed. “Let’s just do this then. No coming back if you haven’t gathered at least ten each.” He pushed the leftovers of his porridge away, not even bothering to comment when Ron grabbed his plate.

Hermione had no such restrictions. “Ron!” she exclaimed and then paused and let out a sigh. “Never mind. Better not to waste it.”

Ron rewarded her with a victorious grin and Harry left them there, glaring at each other over the dining table. Well, he called it a dining table, but it was really just a table. For everything one needed a table for.

Harry yawned as he checked the wardrobe for something fitting. If he wanted to get ten galleons he would need to go to the wealthier areas. And to go there, he needed to look the part. It had never been his favoured part of the city, and the stakes were higher. If you made even one mistake and the person you pick-pocketed noticed the theft, you would find yourself in jail faster than lightning. But a commoner was unlikely to carry more than a few sickles in their pouch, so getting ten galleons would take forever. Better to take the risk with the cream of society. If he was lucky, he might collect all ten in one go.

“Alright, I’m leaving!” Harry shouted, having put on the new outfit and made an attempt at fixing his hair. It might blend in better in this town where keeping your hair light was popular, but the wildness would look horribly out of place. In the end, Harry settled on grabbing one of those ridiculous hats that the wealthier merchants loved. Shapeless and with a stupid feather sticking out. He put it in his pocket for now, and covered his rich clothes with a heavy cloak. It wouldn’t do to get mugged in his own quarters.

Ron and Hermione both waved farewell, still bickering slightly. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in their home, but right now it was getting on Harry’s nerves. They were bickering like this was nothing, when they were well aware of what Malfoy did to those who didn’t pay back on time. So they were wasting time and daylight.

Harry huffed, trying to get rid of his annoyance. Reaching an area which was maintained enough for his clothes to be acceptable he shuffled into an alley, ridding himself of the coat and putting the hat on. Ron would mock him if he had seen him wear it, and Harry would have been forced to agree. The ridiculous piece of clothing was nothing but a nuisance. But it served its cause.

Coat bundled carefully inside his shirt, giving the illusion of a chubbier statue and ensuring that he could use it as a disguise if needed, Harry ran his hands down his chest to straighten the ensemble. It felt like something was missing, but it wasn’t until he had slipped out to the street again that he realised that what he was missing was the feeling of the locket, resting against his chest.

That damned thing again. He needed to let it go, mentally. It was already long gone, and with any luck, so was its owner, now that the two had been reunited. So what if he would never see it again? Once they were rich and wealthy in the future, that’s when he could get hung up on jewellry.

That set, Harry proceeded down the street at a brisk, but not too brisk, speed. The point was to emulate a wealthy businessman, who clearly had something to attend, but was important enough that he would never be found rushing.

Keeping that speed also meant that he would be able to look around and get a good overview of his targets. There were some which were too hard, easily told at a glance. They kept their money close to the chest and while you could rob them, doing it as a pair would be easier. He slightly regretted leaving before Ron, or they could have used their normal tactics.

By now, Ron and Hermione had certainly paired up, so it was too late. He would have to keep with the old-fashioned way.

Spotting a man who seemed easy enough, Harry feigned a stop by the fountain. The water flowing through it was always clean enough to drink, and many of the upper-class made use of this fact. Internally, Harry cringed at the idea of drinking water from a fountain, but still accepted the glass handed to him by a servant, placed there for that very reason. There were fountains back where he lived as well, but to drink from them would almost certainly assure at the least a swift toilet visit.

Making a show of refreshing himself with the water – and to be honest, he certainly was enjoying the freshness – Harry gazed at his target. The man had stopped by a stall and was haggling with the merchant over the price of what looked to be a silken hat. Very similar to Harry’s, really. Maybe he didn’t need to rob the poor fellow, he could just sell his hat to him. Easy and no risk of being chased down by the guards.

Well, Hermione would kill him for selling off a prop. And the hat wasn’t worth _that_ much. The man, however, seemed to have a pretty well-stocked money pouch. Harry could see galleons glinting gold in the sunshine.

He took his time drinking down the last of the water, and handing the cup back to the servant, tipping her a knut. You didn’t have to tip them, but it was a show that he was wealthy enough not to be bothered. Even if that was the furthest from the truth. But Harry liked to do it, because he knew she could use every extra knut.

By this point the negotiations had apparently broken down and the man left the merchant in a huff, no hat in sight. More money for Harry, then.

Harry continued onward, tracking the man down the increasingly busy street. He walked just a little bit faster than most people, a pace that let him slowly gain on his target without seeming rushed or out of place. Once he was close enough he simply squeezed by, waiting for a moment when the crowd was thick enough that it wasn’t strange to step so close. His nimble hand reached out and nabbed the pouch from where it was hanging, barely tucked into the man’s belt. The target didn’t even blink as Harry then passed him, continuing up the road at the same speed.

Mentally grinning, Harry fastened the pouch at his own belt, a placement that was most temporary. As soon as it was possible, Harry turned into a building. It was the hallway of a regular apartment building, but with no one in sight he could take the moment to pull the pouch up, quickly counting the coins. About six galleons, he would say. Not bad for the first catch of the day.

Tying it up properly, Harry placed it under his tunic, hiding the uneven shape of the coins in his improvised cloak belly. Then he continued out of the building, but through the door on the other side. It led to a pretty yard, surrounded by houses on all sides. There were some women here, watching their children play and talking quietly to each other. Harry tipped them his hat, as if he lived there. They curtsied back, and took no further notice of him.

Stepping up to a house on the other side of the yard, Harry entered the doorway and found himself in a hallway quite similar to the one he had just left. The stone building left the hall pleasantly chilled and quieted any noise from the street. Harry could imagine living there, and he let his hand wistfully drag against the wall as he walked past. You couldn’t even hear the wheels he knew were grinding somewhere inside the walls, bringing heat and power to the residents.

He stifled a sigh. This wasn’t the time to start dreaming, and besides, he had been doing it too much lately. Hermione kept nagging at him for having his head in the clouds and _not_ paying attention. Maybe that had been what ruined their actual scheme as well. It was possible Harry hadn’t been recognized until he got careless.

Clenching his jaw, Harry could feel himself getting angry again. He hated this life, hated giving up the locket, hated stealing from these people, even if they had so much more than them. He despised how Malfoy kept demanding these ridiculous sums from them, all to pay for their “wonderful” care when they were children. You could only call it wonderful if you actually enjoyed cleaning and eating scraps. And the amount of galleons Malfoy had spent on them per year certainly couldn’t have exceeded ten.

Yet, for all this, they had to pay him fifty galleons a month to keep his goons from coming over and bashing their faces in. On top of that, they would be called ungrateful. If anyone was ungrateful, it was Malfoy.

For what certainly wasn’t the first time, Harry considered taking Hermione and Ron and just leaving. They could stowaway on a train – they had practise doing that already – and just go, somewhere far away from Malfoy’s grasp.

But it was a fools dream. Harry gathered himself and put on a neutral face as he stepped into the street. The blonde aristocrat had contacts across the isles, and even if they managed to find somewhere outside of his grasp, there would be others like him. And thanks to Malfoy, they didn’t have any skills outside of thieving, anyway.

Turning a corner, Harry sped up to get back from the empty street he had found himself in to the more popular boulevard. He was wasting time that was better spent working. If he tried real hard they might be done today, provided they all lucked out and found targets with properly filled pouches.

He hadn’t gone more than halfway down the street when he heard steps behind him, quick enough to catch up with him. A messenger, most likely, taking a shortcut to deliver their goods on time. Harry stepped to the side, leaving plenty of room for the messenger to pass by without bother. He had been run down by a hasty person more than once and wasn’t looking forward to it when carrying stolen money.

When the steps were just behind him, Harry couldn’t help but to glance backward to look at them. There was something off with the sound, it wasn’t quite running and the shoes clattered against the cobblestones with the sound of hard heels, very unlike the softer shoes most messenger wore.

The man that approached was tall and finely dressed. Harry felt a shiver of apprehension. His instincts urged him to run, but if he did so his cover would be immediately blown. Wealthy merchants certainly didn’t run.

‘Keep you cool.’ The voice that sounded like Hermione hissed in his head. ‘It’s nothing.’

She was right, as always. There was no reason for a finely dressed, tall aristocrat to be going after him. None at all, not after he…!

Too late, much too late, Harry realised his mistake. As he pushed his body to run the man behind him had already caught up and had grabbed him by the wrist, the grip firm and crushing. It didn’t stop Harry from trying to take off.

“Oh, do relax. You’ll strain something.” The man sounded calm, collected and amused. “I just want to have a little conversation.”

How was it, Harry wondered, that he let this man, a damned lord of all people, get the jump on him again?

“Really?” Harry strained against the hold. “Somehow, I’d rather not. So if you don’t mind I’ll just be on my way now.”

“Well, I would actually mind that.” Lord Riddle pulled his hand back sharply, sending Harry stumbling a few steps forward. He caught himself before managing to rush headlong into Riddle, again. The taller man let out a huff, and Harry hoped he imagined it sounding disappointed.

“Uhm, well you know...” Still trying to slip his hand out, Harry shook his head. “I got things to do, so I don’t really have the time for this… besides, you already got what you wanted, right?”

“Did I?” Riddle tilted his head. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“Hey, I’m sorry okay!” Maybe Harry had been wrong, and Riddle wanted retribution as well as the locket. “I mean, I took it basically just out of habit. I didn’t mean anything by it. And you got it back now, so it’s all good, right?”

The grin he received was sharp, but still playful. “Yes, you are certainly right about that. You don’t have to worry about taking the locket. In fact, that helped me find exactly what I was looking for.”

Harry froze. He wasn’t mad about the locket, yet the grip on his wrist was relentless. For a second, all Harry could think was that if it was going to be like this, then it had been such a waste to give the locket back.

“Me?” Harry squeaked, not actually intending to say it.

“Ah, I forgot what a clever boy you are.”

That sent a shiver down his spine, and Harry was forced to try to convince himself that he was not blushing. But the slow, pleased smile Riddle gave him was making it hard to believe it.

“So, what do you say?” The lord continued. “Will you give me a minute of your time? I’ll make it worth it.”

Harry’s throat was parched and he swallowed reflexively, tongue slipping out to wet his lips. When Riddle followed the motion with his eyes, Harry was certain it got worse. Maybe… maybe he could give him just a minute. There was still plenty of day left, after all.

Against his better judgement, Harry nodded. As Riddle led him away, he tried to console himself with the fact that Riddle had promised to make it worth it. And Harry wasn’t sure whether he was hoping that would be money.

  
  


They didn’t go far, the lord led Harry through the wealthy part of the city until they arrived at the very hotel Harry had been hanging off the night before. It was rather strange to approach the building from this direction for once. Harry wasn’t sure if he liked it. Especially when the door was held by a man twice his age who bowed deeply as they passed. It wasn’t right.

Riddle didn’t seem to care, the man might just as well have been air to him. His right hand rested on Harry’s lower back and he urged him forward, without stopping.

Which, well, that wasn’t fine. Grinding his heels in, Harry removed a knut from his pouch and gave it to the bowing man. He had to wave the coin around awkwardly for a bit, before the servant even registered what he was doing.

“Please sir,” he said, “there’s no need.”

“Oh no… I..” Harry halted. He hadn’t expected to be declined. Surely anyone wouldn’t say no to an additional coin? Harry himself would only be happy for it. “I, uh I insist. Please take it!”

It might have been the desperation in Harry’s voice that had the doorman relent and take it.

“In that case, you have my gratitude, sir.”

“Err, don’t, don’t, don’t worry about it!” The last part almost came out as a shout as Riddle, who had been waiting patiently during the spectacle, seemed to decide that it was enough, and he propelled Harry forward once more.

“Hmm, well that was sweet of you, wasn’t it?” Riddle asked as they approached the huge doors of an elevator. This one too, was run by a servant who pulled a lever for them, setting the machinery inside alive and clanking. “But please, refrain from doing so again here. I do rather believe the staff takes offence.”

“Do, do they?” Harry asked and the elevator arrived. Lord Riddle pushed him on with a single nod. “Oh, I didn’t think...”

“Coming from your background, I’m certain it wouldn’t be something to scoff at. Yet the men employed here are supposed to take pride in their work. And with the exorbitant rates they take, I’m sure they can pay them well.”

Riddle didn’t seem to mind the presence of the man operating the elevator, speaking openly about their supposed pride and pay. As if it could ever compare to what lords received in homage. The employee didn’t move a muscle. Harry wondered if he would have ever been able to keep up such an indifferent face, if he had been working there. He rather doubted it, and almost certainly his feelings of discomfort at just being in the area were showing.

They stayed in tense – for Harry at least – silence until the elevator arrived to the top floor and Riddle marched him out again. There were only three doors on this floor, two plain and one larger with a gilded frame. It was hardly a surprise when Riddle led him to the gilded one.

Instead of taking out a key to open it, the lord simply rested his hand against a pane and after a second the lock clicked open. He opened the door with a simple push and a satisfied smile.

“After you.”

Harry, feeling rather as if he was walking into a lions den, went against his instincts and stepped inside. The interior was a garish sitting-room, with gilded décor that matched the door. He had seen it the night before, but at that time it had been dark, with nothing but silhouettes showing. Seeing it in the bright lights – which had apparently turned on when they opened the door – was dazzling.

“Ugh,” Harry said, “I think I might go blind.”

“Yes,” Riddle chuckled, “It is rather over the top, isn’t it? I was planning on staying at the comfort of my carriage, but Lucius wouldn’t hear of it.”

“Lucius?” Harry halted, but was once again urged forward by Riddle’s warm palm. “Wait, you mean Malfoy?!”

“Ah, that’s right.” They reached the couches, dressed in silk and he extended his hand. “Please, have a seat.” When Harry let himself drop sloppily down, he continued. “I forgot you know my dear friend.”

“Dear friend?!” Harry was painfully aware that he was doing nothing to contribute to the conversation, but really, _friend?_ Malfoy. It was just too absurd.

“Oh, you don’t believe I could have any friends?”

“What? No, not you, I’m sure you’ve got plenty… I mean I don’t know you enough to tell, but then if you’re friends with Malfoy then maybe yeah, maybe I don’t think you can.”

The sound or Riddle laughing, a deep chuckle, was mercifully enough to stop him. This certainly wouldn’t be the first time Harry’s mouth got away from him, but holy… it had been a while since it was this bad.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Riddle said, leaning closer. Harry suddenly realised that the lord had seated himself next to him on the couch and that they were already closer than what was considered normal. He tried not to think about what happened the last time they were this close. “I can certainly understand why you would think that. Lucius is.. he’s.. ah, he’s like this room. Very ostentatious. But even that can occasionally have its use.”

“Yeah, really?” Harry said, scooting a little to the side. Riddle was basically sitting on top of him, and that was rather distracting. This close he could see the twitch of Riddle’s lips and feel the heat of the other man. Hot and inviting.

“Oh, most certainly. For instance,” Riddle shifted closer again, and there wasn’t any more couch for Harry to move over. The shirt stretched across Riddle’s chest as he leaned closer. “he was able to get me you.”

Harry snapped his eyes up to Riddle’s face, from where it had been involuntarily rowing across his body. He really needed to work on his focus because for a moment, he had completely forgot about the lord’s ridiculous claim that he had been looking for Harry. Riddle was eyeing him back, quite openly.

“Uhm, about that… Maybe, could you maybe move back a little and explain why the hell you’d be interested in someone like me?”

Riddle didn’t move, just continued to stare Harry down. “You don’t know?”

“I really, really don’t.” Harry put his hand on Riddle’s chest and applied a bit of pressure, in an attempt to push him back. The action didn’t do any good, Harry could smell the rich sent of Riddle’s cologne and feel the steady beat of his heart against his palm.

In return, Riddle raised his own hand and rested it gently on Harry’s wrist, thumb stroking down the sensitive skin over his veins.

“In that case, I’ll let you know. When you stole my precious locket, I needed to track you down. A simple enough task, normally. However, for some reason, the spell didn’t work.”

“It, uh, it didn’t?” Harry swallowed, trying to ignore the shivers that were making their way down his arm. The feel of that slow touch shouldn’t be as arousing as it was.

“Certainly not. So I tried it again, but the same result.”

Riddle leaned closer, his other arm resting behind Harry on the couch. Harry felt trapped and his pulse was rushing enough that Riddle must be feeling it where his thumb kept up its gentle caress. His mind went, unbidden, to other places where that touch was certain to feel even better. Riddle dug his nails into his arm, gently.

Harry whined.

Riddle grinned again and it was like looking at the cat who got the cream, all lazy satisfaction.

“So, Harry,” Harry focused back on the present, forcing his mind away from admiring how gorgeous Riddle was when he was smug, “I had to come to a conclusion. Something about you is blocking the magic.” His voice was low and sultry, completely wrong for the topic.

“Uh-huh...” Harry nodded, but he had troubles focusing on the meaning of what Riddle was saying. His attention kept being drawn to Riddle’s shapely lips and Harry licked his own in response.

“And I happen to need someone who can get past magic, undetected. As you dropped the locket through _my_ wards last night without even a whisper, I believe I can safely say that you match that need.”

If Riddle was talking about needs, there were other ones that Harry found more pressing. Like the fact that his body was reacting more than it had any right to. No one, not even Ginny, had been able to affect him like this with nothing but their mere presence and the lightest touch. Harry wanted to move his hand from where it was _still_ resting against Riddle’s chest and stroke downwards, feel the heat of the skin against his.

“R-right...”

“Oh my...” if Riddle had been smug before, it was nothing in comparison. “Are you even listening to me, Harry?” His hand slid, devilishly slow, down Harry’s arm, nails leaving a delicious bite behind them. “Perhaps I’d better help you out before we talk further, hmm? You were, after all, kind enough to help me out last time.”

His hand reached Harry’s shoulder and proceeded down along his side, the parts he passed tingling. And then it stopped, Riddle looking with amusement at Harry’s midsection. “Hmm…” he said, voice low and amused. “I don’t remember you being quite this… substantial last time. Been enjoying the good life, have you?”

“Wha-what?” Harry blinked up at him, not sure when his eyes had fluttered half-shut. Then he looked down at the bulge around his waist. “Oh, the cloak...”

“Cloak?” Riddle still looked too amused as his hand wandered over Harry’s belly, squeezing the cloth underneath. He let out a chuckle.

It really should have been a turn off, but that intense focus and that laugh just made Harry’s blood rush faster. Riddle traced down until he could drag the shirt up, freeing the cloak from its confinement. As he pulled it out, the purse fell clattering to the floor.

Riddle’s smile froze for a second and a strange expression curled in his eyes. The hand that had been pulling on the cloth ripped away the last of it, suddenly, only to rake down Harry’s side. The change in sensations was jarring, but the harsh bite of nails felt good.

“So,” Riddle said, “Where were we? I think you were about to ask me something.”

Harry shook his head, thrown. In response the hand found the edge of his shirt again, tracing dangerously close to his groin as it did so. Harry stifled the gasp and but couldn’t stop his twitch, body moving upwards to try and follow the touch as it traced up, now under his shirt. The fingers felt like they were leaving trails of fire behind, and the heat went straight down.

“No? I think you were. I was asking if you wanted me to return the favour.”

And oh, _that_ was still an option. And it was tempting, especially when Riddle dug his nails into Harry’s hip, each sharp point a delicious pain.

“You need to say it first, my dear...” Riddle urged, nails retracting gently, fingers smoothing over the sore skin. “Should I help you out?”

Harry knew, he knew that he shouldn’t. But he was also having troubles remembering why. Riddle was a grown man and he was obviously willing to ‘take care of Harry’s needs’. Harry had been dreaming about his touch for weeks now. Lord or not, it didn’t really matter. Not right then.

“Please..!” He bit out.

“Please what?”

“Please help me out…”

“Why Harry, all you needed to do was ask.”

And with that, Riddle crossed the final distance between them, his lips descending on Harry’s in a bruising kiss. The arm that had previously been on the couch tangled in Harry’s hair, pulling his head back. His lips were as soft as they looked, but with the ferocious sting of teeth lingering behind.

Harry groaned into the kiss as Riddle made good on his promise. His right hand continuing its journey until he could caress Harry through his pants. “Fuck...” he moaned.

Riddle kissed his way across Harry’s jawline and down his throat, pulling at his hair to get him to raise his head more and allow Riddle access. Harry really, really didn’t want to like the prickling pain as his head was pulled back, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t.

Still, for all that, Riddle hadn’t made a move to open Harry’s trousers, hadn’t done anything further than gently caressing his aching, and now full, erection through the cloth.

“Stop teasing..!” Harry bit out, “or we’ll be here all night!”

The reminder of the train was enough to have Riddle stop and pull back for a second. “Oh, I knew I liked you.” And wasting no more time, Riddle swiftly flicked open the button of the trousers and thrust his hand inside.

“Uha…!” Harry was helpless at stopping the surprised moan from breaking out as Riddle grabbed his cock, giving it a long, firm stroke.

“Hmm, is this to your satisfaction?” Riddle asked as he continued stroking, staring at Harry’s face and lapping up every expression. “Are you pleased? Or do you want me to go faster? I wouldn’t want to be teasing.”

Harry wanted to reply that he should return the favour, but was too caught up in the sensations to form the words.

“I take that as a yes.” The hand not busy with Harry’s erection now ran down his chest, caressing the firm lines of his stomach. The feel of skin against skin was divine, and was enough to drive Harry over the edge. Riddle’s hand kept moving all the way through and didn’t stop until Harry was a boneless heap against the couch.

“Well,” Riddle said, extracting his hand. “No complaints, I hope?”

Harry managed a glare, but really, it was hard to muster a complaint right then. He was feeling pleasantly lethargic, more satisfied than he ever did when he just imagined Riddle’s hands on him. The real thing was way more intense.

After a lingering look, Riddle disappeared into another room, returning after a couple of moments with a wet cloth. As he approached Harry with it, the black-haired – now brunette – had the thought that maybe Riddle was intending to clean him with it. Terrifying thought. Instead of letting it happen, Harry rose up to a sitting position and stretched his hand out for the cloth.

“Thanks.” He said, before Riddle had even made a move to give it to him. That earned him a crooked eyebrow, but the cloth was placed in his hand. Which was great, but to wash up, he would have to take his trousers and pants off. Or at least push them down a bit.

Now that the lord wasn’t an immediate presence, ridiculously attractive and careless of personal space, Harry was feeling awkward.

“Uh, could I...” He pointed to the door Riddle had just come through. “That’s the bathroom?”

The eyebrow rose yet more, but the man nodded and a side of his mouth rose up. “Great, uh, I’ll be just a minute.”

“Oh, take your time, Harry.” Riddle purred, “but do hurry back. We were in the middle of a conversation, remember? And I’d so hate to have it interrupted.”

“Conversation isn’t what I’d call it.” Still, Harry nodded, reading the underlying threat. He wasn’t going to try to escape through the bathroom window. The thought honestly hadn’t occurred to him, but it probably would have once he saw the opportunity.

Closing the door behind him, Harry focused on cleaning up quickly. This day had been pretty weird so far, and he was certain it was going to get stranger. Riddle had.. he’d said some strange things before things… derailed. While he had been previously occupied with other thoughts at the time, a part of his mind had been listening, because he remembered Riddle had sprouted some strange stuff.

Like, he couldn’t track Harry by magic. What was that supposed to mean? Learning magic of any kind cost more money that Harry had owned during his lifetime, so it was pretty preposterous to assume he would know something like that. As a result, buying some sort of spell was way out of reach. So how Riddle thought he would be able to pull that off was a mystery.

As handy as it would be, it had to have been a fluke that Riddle couldn’t track him. Magic was supposed to be pretty tricky stuff, so maybe something had been wrong. Like, a bad ingredient, or something. Magic required ingredients, right?

Either way, what it boiled down to was that, basically, Riddle was wrong. Somehow mistaken. Which was great because that meant he had no reason to keep following Harry. He would just be able to clear up this misunderstanding, grab his stuff and go. Maybe thank Riddle for the help. It had been pretty good help, and he didn’t want to be accused of being rude again.

Certain in his belief, Harry opened the door and marched back out. Now that he had a clear head and knew what the deal was, saying their final goodbyes would be easy. He shook away any regret he might feel over this, just because the man was ridiculously attractive, it didn’t mean anything. He’d had fun, Riddle had had fun. That was it. No good ever came from getting involved with the nobility, Malfoy had definitively taught him that lesson. Mind-blowing orgasms aside, any involvement with Riddle would end in disaster sooner or later.

Riddle was sitting in the couch again, lazily moving a small ball of fire from one fingertip to the next. Which was impressive. And slightly terrifying. Harry’s mind hadn’t quite put together the pieces that Riddle was a wizard, not until that moment.

“Ah, Harry. I see you decided to make the correct choice.”

Harry nodded, eyes still following that casual use of magic. It looked practised, the fire flowing smoothly from finger to finger. Controlled by Riddle’s will to perfection, Harry could easily envision it to be unleashed upon him if he angered the lord.

Hesitantly, Harry seated himself in the couch opposite of Riddle. A part of him wanted to keep standing, but his legs still felt a little weak. He would probably be better off sitting now, rather than falling flat when he needed to flee. If.

“Listen, I know you think I..” Harry trailed off, not sure if Riddle was paying attention, he was staring so intensely at the flame. “… I think you have been mistaken.”

Riddle’s eyes looked up at him for a second and they were dark. “Pray tell.” Harry wondered if sitting down had been a mistake after all. And if this was a mistake. As long as Riddle believed that he needed Harry, he wouldn’t do anything rash. Probably.

“Yeah, see, I don’t know any magic, would’ve been impossible for me to learn it anywhere, anything at all, really, I don’t have that kind of money, so I think there must just have been something gone wrong with the spell.” He paused, but Riddle didn’t say anything, just stared intensely. The flame on his fingers had slowed down to a crawl. “Cause I mean, you gotta have proper ingredients for that kind of thing, don’t you? So it really seems very possible that it just went wrong by itself and you know…”

Was he fidgeting? Harry was pretty certain he was fidgeting, fingers picking at the fine silk. Riddle’s stare was unnerving. He felt like the lord would pounce on him at any time, but he wasn’t sure it would be to rain down magic. Rather… Harry swallowed as he realised that while the lord had helped him out, Harry hadn’t returned the favour. Well, not this time.

Then Riddle sighed and looked away. “Please, try to not look quite so worried. You’re making it hard for me to contain myself.” The flame started flickering, the pace jumpy. Riddle glared at it for a moment, before he waved his hand and it flickered out. “And my spell certainly didn’t go wrong, and I am not wrong. Would you like to know why?”

Harry shook his head, because he didn’t. The man continued regardless.

“I know it because when I couldn’t track you, I tried to track the necklace. An item of mine would be a simple thing to track, don’t you think? But no, the same result there. It was as if both you and the necklace had disappeared into thin air. But imagine my lack of surprise, when I tried to track the necklace this morning, and found it directly, lying innocently on the floor of my room. So, yes, Harry, I am certain it’s you.”

“Uhm, but no...” Harry said, but his heart wasn’t in it. He wondered what Riddle had done with the necklace. If he had left it on the floor or if he picked it up, wearing it against his heart.

“No point in objecting. As you already said, you have no knowledge of magic, and thus, would not be able to tell what was going on. Yet I’m sure you’ve managed to enter places you shouldn’t be able to. For instance, my train carriage.”

“Please, I’ve got past guards more than once in my life. Especially one as simple as that.” Honestly, it had been almost ridiculously easy.

“Did you really think a single guard would be my only protection?” Riddle shook his head. “I use Barty more as a warning sign than anything else. No, I warded it against trespassers, yet you, you flew through the door like it was nothing.”

He must be lying. There had been nothing to block Harry’s path, just a lousy door and an oblivious man. “Don’t make things up!”

“What would be the point? I’m certainly not telling you this for nothing. I need your help, and I think you’ll find that I always get what I want.” Riddle didn’t seem to doubt it for even a second.

That didn’t sit right with Harry. Arrogant and presumptuous, at that moment he sounded exactly like Malfoy. Harry shook his head, angry at himself for falling so easily into almost considering this man to be okay. Yet here it was, the way it always was with lords. No room for arguments.

“Well, maybe that used to be the case, but..!”

“Hmm, but I think I already have. Didn’t I tell you?” Riddle interrupted. “Malfoy doesn’t own your contract any longer.”

Harry blinked at him, a long, slow movement. “What..?” Here it was, the other shoe that was waiting to drop. He had dallied for too long and now it happened, just like he knew it would. Because he had been stupid and thought that a casual fling with a lord would be okay. “You did what?”

“I thought you’d be pleased.” Riddle raised an eyebrow.

“You thought… you thought I’d be pleased? To be bought like a piece of furniture!?”

“Oh, do calm down. You’ll find I’m quite a lenient lord to pay obeisance to, compared to Malfoy. In fact,” Riddle smiled, “if you play along, you’ll be your own man, soon enough. All you need to do is to get one, small object for me. For a man of your skills, it should be a simple task.”

“If it’s so simple, why haven’t you already found someone to do this? There must be thousands of thieves out there, all happy to do this for you! Just cast whatever spell you think is cast on me and have them fetch it.” If there was one thing Harry knew, then it was that he wanted nothing to do with this. He’d rather scrape together money to pay Malfoy back, than to bear this. He’d been _bought._ And clearly Riddle saw nothing wrong with it.

“There is no spell like that. Nothing that can help anyone get past these wards. Innate talent, however, might just have a shot.” Riddle’s tone was curt, and he had lost the previously playful demeanour. “So don’t be stupid, Harry. It’s one job. Then you’ll be free to do whatever you please.”

“No.” Harry said, firm. When Riddle opened his mouth to argue he shook his head. “No. It doesn’t matter if its the smallest thing in the world, I refuse to help a man who thinks he can just _buy_ his way to anything!”

Harry got up, grabbing the cloak and pouch that Riddle must have folded and put on the table while he was in the bathroom.

“Harry.” Riddle said, a bite in his tone. “Harry!”

Harry ignored him and headed straight for the door, heedless of the protests coming from behind him. Slamming the door barely made a dent in his anger.


	4. Paying your debt

Harry was still at full rage as he walked through the busy streets, too angry to even keep up any appearances of being a busy merchant. Instead he barrelled through the crowd, followed by displeased muttering and gasps as he pushed his way past.

A part of him was well aware that he needed to calm down and stop drawing attention to himself. But the greater part was filled with annoyance, and the idea that he would be arrested for being rude seemed silly and absurd. Besides, Riddle had bought him – _bought, like an animal –_ so what was the point? Riddle didn’t want his money. Riddle wanted him to go and steal something.

But what? What could possibly be worth enough for him to pay off Harry’s not insignificant debt without even batting an eyelash? While it was obvious the lord had money, it seemed a reckless move. Plus all effort he had spent on hunting Harry down… he had already paid a small fortune just to get to have a conversation. In Harry’s mind it would be both faster and cheaper to just hire a whole lot of thieves. Heck, even a small army would probably do. Strength in numbers and all that.

He didn’t get it. None of it made sense, and the idea that magic didn’t work on him was the most ridiculous of all.

Harry stormed into an empty alleyway, slipping the cloak on. He needed to get home and he needed to talk to Hermione about this. His friend was always able to wrap her mind around these things in a way he couldn’t. Even Ron would often be better, coming to suspiciously good conclusions at the drop of a hat. How he did it, none of them could say, yet they weren’t willing to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Hurrying down the streets, Harry made it home in no time. He slammed the door open, hard enough for it to crash into the opposing wall. He winced at the sound, but there was no one there to scold him. Of course, Ron and Hermione weren’t back yet. Despite his foray into dangerous territory, the day had yet to end. If they were working in a team, then their bushy haired friend was certain to keep Ron out for as long as she could in order to maximise their winnings.

It made sense, but it wasn’t helping Harry any.

For a brief moment he considered going out again to find and bring them home. After all, they would already have enough money for now, if they were just paying for Ron and Hermione. Some to spare, even.

Alone in the room which served as kitchen, dining-, living- and Harry’s room, the thief let out a laugh. It was short and sharp, and it didn’t make him feel better at all.

Harry wondered if this was what they referred to as out of the ashes and into the fire. Malfoy had certainly been bad, but he was a known factor. Smug and greedy, while attempting to appear like a saint who saved kids from a life on the street by putting them at an orphanage. No one ever checked to see what happened to them once they were all grown up, after all.

But Riddle… Riddle was a different kind of man. Harry wasn’t quite sure of what. He didn’t seem to be driven by money, although Harry was certain he was greedy. And, insulting or not, that offer of his seemed too good to be true. Steal one measly object for him and then Harry would be free? It didn’t work like that in the world. There was a catch, Harry just couldn’t see it.

The last part might have been his own fault. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied with getting Riddle’s hands down his pants, then maybe, just maybe, he would have allowed himself to think clearly. But there was something with the man that just made his mind go to places it shouldn’t.

Even now, the anger still glowering in the bottom of his stomach, Harry could feel a shiver up his spine as he imagined Riddle close, hands caressing his skin. The trail of fire left behind by his fingers…

No! Harry shook his head, anger blazing. It was all a ploy from Riddle to get him more agreeable. Harry had seen Hermione do it to Ron enough times to know that with a good enough incentive, Ron would do the dishes. Sometimes even without complaining. And that was what Riddle was trying to do to him, only he didn’t want any dishes done.

God, he was going out of his mind. Harry busied himself with changing back to normal clothes, and then counted the coins he had stolen six times, exactly five galleons and seven sickles and ten knuts. The sum didn’t change no matter how many times he counted them. When he found himself lining up the coins a seventh time, Harry decided that enough was enough.

Counting the same coins over and over certainly didn’t distract him, and his friends had still not returned, despite the darkening sky. He would be worried, but they knew what they were doing, and being late usually meant either a good streak or that they had to find a hideout to lie low in for a while. Nothing unusual. The only difference was the unrest rushing through his body and the time that seemed to go slower than normal.

“Come on...” Harry muttered to himself, walking a coin across his knuckles. “Come on, you’ve got enough...” After two laps he threw the coin back down, spinning it against the table instead. Faster and faster. He wished he had the locket, then he could try to pry it open. When it had been in his possession, Harry had never quite found the time to truly try and reveal its secrets, yet now that it was gone he apparently had all the time in the world. Why did he have to go and give it back?

The coin clattered to the table as Harry pulled his hands back to rake them through his hair. His fingers slide through them much too fast, and for a moment Harry both misses his long hair and remember the sense of long, slender fingers tugging.

“I’m gonna go nuts.” Harry groaned. When had he ever signed up for this? Every thought seemed to lead back to Riddle, one way or the other. While one definitively was more pleasant, the stubborn part of him refused to accept it. The man was an arsehole, and Harry would not waste any more time on him. Or let himself indulge in the addictive pleasure the lord seemed to ooze. “Nope.” Harry said to himself, catching his thoughts before they had time to wander. “Angry, and nothing else.”

But boy, Ron and Hermione sure were late… or perhaps he was stuck in time, every second dragging out and stretching an eternity. There had to be something he could do to break this monotony.

As if on cue, his stomach rumbled and Harry remembered that it had been quite a while since he last ate. So then, dinner seemed like the correct choice. His friends would appreciate it too, when they came back.

Harry walked over to the kitchen area, nothing more than a burner and an icebox. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was enough for their purposes, even if the icebox was more empty air than anything else. Still, there were enough veggies to make a soup. Harry busied himself with the preparations, fetching water from the tap in the bathroom and setting it to boil.

The familiar act of cooking was almost enough to take his mind of things. When he focused hard enough, he could almost convince himself that it worked.

Midway through cooking the door opened.

“Oh finally!” Harry half-yelled, getting up from his crouch by the burner and rushing at a very surprised looking Ron. “I’ve been going out of my mind here!”

“Ooph!” Ron said, bracing himself against the impact. “Eh, what’s… what’s going on mate?”

“We’ve… I’ve got a problem!”

“You really do, unless you get the hell out of the doorway.” Hermione growled from behind Ron. Harry barely had the time to let out a surprised squeak before she pushed her way in, shifting Ron and Harry – still clinging on – to the side.

Harry looked up at Ron in confusion and mouthed ‘what’s happening?’. Ron shrugged and sighed, watching as Hermione stomped over to the kitchen and stirring the soup with vigour.

Unsettled, Harry reluctantly let go of Ron. While Hermione normally was the most level-headed of them, when she got mad, she really got mad.

“Uhm, so...” He began quietly, “’mione… are.. what happened?”

Hermione dashed the spoon into the pot with enough force that water splashed out. “What happened, you ask?!” She hissed. “I’ll tell you what happened, Harry James Potter. We were out there, doing what we have to to survive, when Malfoy decides to come strolling!”

Always unpleasant, Harry agreed. But it happened often enough that it would pass by without hardly any notice. “I see...”

“No!” She spat. “You do not see! That prick decided that the street we were working on was ‘ _out of limits’_ and took all the money we had already collected as _toll_. Saying we don’t know the rules and might as well get punished, now that we’ve got ourselves a sugar daddy.” Oh, oh no. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but she kept going. “Like our life is all set out for us and we’ve got money shooting out of the arse! And please, I say, please tell us when that happened. But Malfoy just gives us a look like we’re stupid, grabs _everything_ we’d got – and Harry, we managed to get lucky and had already gathered forty – _forty, Harry_ – galleons, and I was thinking we might be able to catch a bit of a break for once, but clearly, no, that’s not allowed to happen. So I thought screw it and I argued with him that this isn’t the rules, but of course, Junior doesn’t care about the rules and should he call the guards on us?”

She paused to take in a breath. And she wasn’t wrong, taking their money like that, out on the street was not the agreement. On the fifth of every month they handed in the full sum to the Malfoy accountant, and the family didn’t send anyone to break their bones. That was how it worked. They didn’t get to come and just grab whatever they liked, although as was apparent, it wouldn’t actually be an issue for them.

But now Riddle had bought Harry’s contract. Was that what had brought it on? But it was only Harry’s contract and that had nothing to do with Hermione and Ron. Even if it wasn’t a secret that they worked together.

“I just want to grab him by that shiny blonde hair and grind his face in the dirt!” Hermione was hissing now, clanking loudly as she grabbed bowls from their cupboard and pouring soup into them. The bowls were slammed on the table. “Eat.” She ordered. “You need your strength so we can raid Malfoy junior the next time he’s out, alone and unawares.” There was a maniacal glint in her eyes. “I have it on good authority that every Tuesday, the little blondie leaves his cronies behind to go visit a lady who would never be allowed to marry into the Malfoy family. That’s when we get him.”

Ron and Harry exchanged a look. They knew she would never go through with it, but hadn’t known she even knew that. And knowing Hermione, that was the least of her knowledge. She probably had his entire schedule memorized, in case it would be needed.

When Hermione finally stopped her rant, Harry swallowed the piece of potato he had in his mouth. It felt like it got stuck in his throat, halfway down and he had to gulp several times before he felt ready to speak. Even then, nervousness made his mouth dry.

While he had been angry before, waiting and then being ambushed by Hermione’s anger had doused the fire. Now that his friends were actually there, the idea of telling them was terrifying. Not that… well, Harry hoped they would understand and not judge him too harshly for his stupidity, but how did he even go about telling them.

He took a sip of water to gather his courage, and then another. Opened his mouth before closing it again. Hermione was staring angrily at her soup, and didn’t notice. Ron, however, did.

“Uh, Harry… are you okay?”

Harry’s eyes snapped to him. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times again, and now both of his friends were looking at him. “I.. uh… I think I know why Malfoy said that… about the sugar daddy?”

He could see them freeze up. And suddenly wondered if it really was necessary to tell them. Like, this was his problem to deal with. He wouldn’t be a very good friend if he bothered them with it.

“Uh, neverm..” He started saying.

“Harry.” Hermione’s voice hadn’t lost its anger. “What do you know?”

Yikes. When she used that tone directed at him, there was no excuse in the world that was valid.

“I… OK, so remember a couple of weeks ago, with the train, right? I… I might not have mentioned that I ran into a lord and somehow made it out with a locket.”

“You didn’t..!” Ron exhaled and Hermione’s eyes’ narrowed further.

Harry tried a smile. It didn’t feel like it came out right. “I did… And apparently it was important enough for him to try and get it back... And then one thing led to the other and somehow he found out who I am and about my debt to Malfoy and he’s bought my contract from him and now he wants me to steal something for him instead and then call it even.” The last part of the explanation rushed out of him in a quick stream of words. “So maybe that’s what Malfoy meant. And I guess you didn’t need that money cause my part doesn’t need to be paid anymore.” He tried a smile again. It didn’t seem to be any better.

“Whoa, wait, what?” Ron exclaimed. “You’re, you’re free of Malfoy?!”

Harry nodded. “Yes, but it’s also… he’s an arse.”

“Of course he’s an arse, Harry, it’s a lord we’re talking about. I’m pretty sure they breed them that way. But you’re free, and away from Malfoy. Man, that’s the dream!”

A part of Harry agreed, and a part of him wanted to argue and tell Ron that it wasn’t true. It wasn’t a dream, now he was just indebted to another lord, ready to yank his chain. That it was strange and that the man seemed terrifyingly interested in him.

“Harry…” Hermione said, and the anger seemed to have settled in her. Her eyes were still narrowed, but now it was in thought. “I think you should tell me that again. And don’t skip out on the details.”

Nodding, he told them the story, although he did leave out some details. Like how Riddle’s hand had felt on his bare skin or that they had even touched at all. It was irrelevant, he told himself, and personal.

The mood went from tense to tenser, an uncomfortable difference from how they would normally spend their evenings. When Harry was finally done telling Hermione pestered him with questions, asking details like she was interrogating him. It had been Harry’s fault, parts of the story hadn’t quite matched up, he supposed. Like why such a valuable locket had just been lying around in the train – and the correct answer would have been it hadn’t – where his hat had gone or why Harry had agreed to follow this man back to his hotel. There had been plenty of opportunity for the thief to get away.

“I, I mean, I don’t know, Hermione. This.. he’s got a way with words, and I figured he wasn’t mad so I might as well see what he wanted.”

“Harry!” Hermione almost screeched at that. “God you’re like a little kid who has to be told not to follow strangers home, just because they say they have candy!”

A quite uncomfortable parallel, Harry thought, fighting a blush. To be fair, no one had ever told Harry not to follow a stranger who offered to ‘make it worth his while’. That argument probably wouldn’t help his case.

“I’m sorry ‘mione!” He said instead, “but it’s done. And even if I hadn’t followed him, I don’t think that would have done anything to stop him. With my luck he’d probably have found his way here instead and we’d still be in this situation.”

She sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I am?” Harry blinked.

“Yes, you are.” Another sigh. “He clearly believes that this ‘talent’ of yours is necessary. So the moment he couldn’t trace you, that’s when everything went wrong.” She paused. “And you’re sure you don’t know anything else?” Harry shook his head. “Well, I agree with you that I think something’s fishy with this. A deal like that… it’s too good to be true.”

“Or he’s just that desperate.” Ron piped in, scraping the spoon on the bottom of his bowl, trying to get the last of his soup after everyone else were long since done eating. “Like, whatever you’re getting must be pretty special.”

Hermione nodded. Then she sighed again. “I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere with this right now. We don’t know enough. Tomorrow… tomorrow we go pay Malfoy and make sure he wasn’t lying.” Harry hadn’t even thought of that. What if Riddle had been lying? “Then we try to find out more.”

Ron groaned. “I hate research.”

“Yes, but you like Harry, don’t you?” Hermione snipped. Ron’s mouth snapped closed. “That’s what I thought.”

“Thanks guys...” Harry said and then sighed. He felt quite tired all of a sudden. “I’m just, I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Great idea!” Hermione was nodding along and she swiftly stood up, ushering Ron to get up and follow her to their bedroom as well. “We’ll need our rest. I’ll wake you up tomorrow, Harry, and we’ll figured this out.”

Seconds later they were gone, the door firmly shut behind them. Still sitting at the table, Harry sighed. He really hoped things would be fine.

  
  


In the morning, Hermione did as she had promised and woke the boys up nice and early. Harry grudgingly got to his feet, head heavy from lack of sleep. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been trying to get some rest, but his mind was too full of, the events of the day buzzing through his mind. There had seemed to be no end of it, and when he actually managed to sleep it was to come face to face with strange dreams where fire was dancing around him as Harry fought to let go of the locket that was slowly but surely pulling him forward. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he reached the goal, but anger kept him bracing against it, trying to tear the locket away.

You didn’t need to be particularly clever to figure out what it meant, but the idea that Riddle should take up even more of his time was maddening.

“Come on,” Hermione said, “go wash up, and we’ll have breakfast. Then we go to Malfoy.”

Harry groaned and looked back at his bed. “That’s never a good reason to get up.”

“Harry...” There was a warning in her tone and the brunette sighed and headed into the bathroom to throw some water into his face.

By the time he came out, Harry was feeling slightly more alert. Ron was already sitting by the table, looking like he was about to fall asleep in his porridge.

“Rough night?” Harry asked.

“Great night, rough morning.” Ron corrected, and ate a mouthful of his food. He seemed to perk up a little at that, proceeding to shove the rest of it into his mouth at lighting speed.

Harry wished he could do it as well, but there was a lump in his stomach and he didn’t feel like eating. He only did so as Hermione nudged him pointedly. Every mouthful felt like swallowing ashes.

He wasn’t sure what worried him more, that they would get confirmation that Riddle had bought his contract or that they would find out that the lord had lied to him. And either way, what they were going to do about it. The contract was magically binding and the owner had the right to collect their repayment whichever way they wished. As angry as it made him, Harry knew that if Riddle demanded it, he would inevitably have to do as he asked. Unless he wanted to face the consequences. Which in this case was a slow pain which would escalate the longer he continued to disobey the order, until it finally killed him.

And if that wasn’t something to look forward to. In the contract it was certainly put in a nicer way and Harry hadn’t understood the meaning properly until Hermione told him. Yet Malfoy had been easy enough to please, being nothing but a greedy bastard. Harry knew that people had been delayed with their payments but had received nothing but a beating for it. Probably because they hadn’t meant to disobey and because a dead person cannot bring back any galleons, so the lord never bothered with utilising the magical fineprint.

But all of that would be moot if Riddle had his contract. The twins had said he ran in bad circles, so it didn’t seem unlikely that he would utilise the contract to the fullest.

“Alright, are you done?” Harry blinked at Hermione. Somehow he had managed to get everything down so he just nodded. “Then let’s go.”

The path to Malfoy manor was a familiar one. They followed the same one every time they had official business there, since the lord had something of a dislike of people jumping down from the roof. And it tended to end up with getting stabbed by an overzealous guard. So they took the proper road, carefully in sight of guards at all times.

They had been to the manor enough times that the guards by the servants entrance would recognize them on sight, and so they were waved inside without a question. The long corridor was littered with doors and crossed by paths to the right and left. It was the centre passage for those who worked inside of the house and it allowed them to get wherever they needed to go without being seen by the lord or his family.

The rough carpet was soft beneath their feet and one of their friends from the orphanage who had been assigned to work of his debt as the Malfoy’s gardener, Neville, once told Harry that it had been put in to make sure the servants footsteps couldn’t be heard elsewhere in the house, as it might disturb the masters. That didn’t mean there was any unnecessary money spent on decorating the place, the walls were bare but for the occasional lamp lighting the space.

Hermione led the way through the maze-like corridors until they arrived at the room which hosted the notary. They always delivered the money straight to him and would stand in silence while he counted every coin to make sure it was all accounted for. As Hermione was the one who prepared the pouch, it always was.

The notary was a rather short man, with long fingers and a pointed nose. Harry and Ron often speculated if he was a goblin, a race which had long since passed into myth. They only did it when Hermione wasn’t around, as she disliked that speculation. “Just because a man looks slightly different,” she would say, “it doesn’t mean he’s a creature!” Harry and Ron agreed, of course, but Ron would swear he had seen Griphook bend a galleon between two fingers without breaking a sweat.

“Ah,” Griphook said as they entered. “You’re early this month, Miss Granger.”

“Well, better that than late, right?” Hermione smiled. “And there was something we wanted to confirm with you...”

Griphook held out his left hand and waited until Hermione put the pouch in it before asking. “Well, what do you want?” He frowned, weighting the bag in his hand before pulling it back and pouring the coins on the table.

“It’s about Harry’s contract. It has, uh, we’ve heard it’s no longer owned by Malfoy.”

The notary paused in his calculations, a coin held firmly in his grip. He looked up at Ron and Harry for the first time. “Ah. Indeed. So what are you doing here, Mr. Potter?”

“So it’s true?!” Harry exclaimed, although they always let Hermione do the talking. “It’s been bought?”

“Lord Malfoy himself confirmed that we will no longer be expecting payment from you. But as I do not care for the contracts, I cannot tell you who has it.”

Harry felt himself pale. So it was true, then. Riddle really did own his contract.

“No other questions?” Griphook had already turned back to the money, swiftly flicking the coins to calculate the total.

The trio exchanged a look but didn’t say anything. They couldn’t leave until Griphook handed them their receipt, but Harry felt like his skin was crawling. He needed to get out of there, to do something.

The door to their right slammed open to admit a runner.

Griphook frowned at him. “What do you want, boy?”

“I-I have a message from our Lord...” He said, hesitating slightly at the gruff tone. He cleared his throat and rolled up a scroll to read from. “Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger are no longer expected to provide their monthly payments. End message.” He rolled the parchment up with a snap, and then looked up with surprise at the stunned faces.

“What did you just say?” Harry half-whispered.

“Uh, just that...”

“No, I heard you. When did this happen?”

“Just now, I was summoned to the large assembly hall and provided this scroll. I suppose our Lord’s guest must have...” He came to a complete stop as Harry got up in his face, grabbing his shoulders roughly.

“What guest..!?”

“I… I don’t know his name.” The messenger paled. “A lord. Tall, black hair…”

“That bastard!” The fury Harry hadn’t know still existed burst into flame. “Get out of my way.” He pushed the servant aside, running out into the lavish corridor just outside.

“Harry, no!” Hermione shouted, but he was beyond caring.

If Riddle had been there, then he would still have the time to catch him. How dare that self obsessed git try to buy Harry’s friends?! Like it hadn’t been bad enough when he did it to Harry!

Harry raced down the corridor, taking a sharp left to the hallway which lead to the large assembly hall. He might not have been allowed there, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t all memorized the layout of the manor, just in case. The door to the hall stood wide open and the room was empty. But they couldn’t have gone far. Harry turned on his heel to sprint down the wide corridor to toward the exit.

It didn’t take long before he caught sight of a lone figure up ahead, striding along with a posh and strutting step that Harry would recognize anywhere.

“HEY!” He bellowed. “Riddle!”

The man in front of him stopped and turned, greeting Harry with a pleased smile.

“Ah, Harry. What a pleasant surprise.”

Barely a few paces separated them now but Harry didn’t slow down, using his speed to grab Riddle by the collar and slam him up against the wall.

“Shut up!” He yelled. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?!”

Riddle’s calm facade made him even more furious.

“After you left yesterday, I found myself remembering that you worked in a team. And far be it for me to separate such close friends.”

“Separate?!” Harry asked, incredulous. “You just want to use them for blackmail, you damned bastard!” His grip on the collar tightened. The slight hitch as Riddle had to fight for air felt like sweet justice.

“H-had you only...”

“No!” Harry interrupted before Riddle could get more than a few words out. “I don’t want to hear a word from you! You entitled, spoiled brat who thinks you can just get whatever you want just because you have money! I’m not a piece of meat to be bought and neither are my friends!”

Riddle was gripping his wrists now, firmly yet not with enough strength to pull Harry off him.

“Harry!” Hermione was shouting from down the hall, running quickly with Ron at her heels. Two guards close behind them. “We’ve got to go!”

Harry didn’t look away from Riddle, who met his eyes dead on, contemplating. He didn’t move until Hermione was right next to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him off Riddle. Only then did Harry manage to swallow his anger enough to let go and dash down the corridor with them.

Hermione led them down and then turning to enter the servants passages again.

“Hold.” Riddle said. “It’s fine, let them go.”

The sound of boots came to a sudden halt. “But, sir..!”

“I said it’s fine!” There was definite irritation in his voice. “Go back to your posts, they won’t do any harm.”

Harry didn’t hear if the guard argued further as his friends urged him on until they had left the house far behind.

Stopping in a small alley to catch their breaths, Harry hit his fist on the wall.

“Goddammit! Now what do we do?”

Hermione shook her head, biting her lip. “I… we’ve… this is...”

“It’s incredible!” Ron interjected, when he had finally caught his breath. “Incredible!”

Harry whipped his head around, staring at his friend with wide eyes. “What?”

“Oh, come on, Harry!” Ron’s hair was a tangled mess from their run and his eyes shone with excitement. “You gotta realise this is amazing! Riddle just paid off our debt. _All_ of our debts!” He paused to give Harry the chance to say something, but received nothing but a blank stare. “Look, I’ve been thinking about this since last night and I can’t see it as anything but a good thing! We do one little job for Riddle and then we’re free, right? That’s been the dream, mate!”

“I know but...” Harry frowned.

“Yes, yes, I know you don’t like the way he did it.” Ron held up a hand. “And don’t get me wrong, it is a pretty sneaky and underhanded. Like couldn’t he have approached you first and made the offer before taking the action. But you gotta admit, if he had, I doubt you’d have said no.”

“...Well, no, but that would have been a different thing!”

Ron snorted. “Oh, come on, get it off it! You’re just mad on a principle now. When you look at it, Riddle really is doing us a favour!”

“You don’t know that!” Harry snapped back. “We don’t even know what it is we’re supposed to steal. Or from where!”

“Or if we’re going to get out of it alive,” Hermione chipped in. Both boys froze as she did, turning to look at her. “Well, it’s not impossible! I doubt he’d pay so much money to hire a thief if there wasn’t any risk involved. And I think that he might ask us to do something where our lives might be at stake.”

There was a heavy pause.

“So I’m right then! He’s a total arsewipe!” Harry blurted.

Hermione shrugged. “Well, we don’t know. I think we need more information first.”

“So, to the twins then?” Ron asked, looking somewhat deflated. The cheer he had gained from finding out he was free from Malfoy disappeared in an instance.

“To the twins.” Hermione agreed. “And while we’re going there, why don’t you,” she pointed to Harry, “take some relaxing breaths and calm down and you,” nodding toward Ron, “cheer up a bit! It’s like I’m hanging out with you during your teens again. I couldn’t stand it then and I definitively won’t stand it now!”

“Hey!” Ron and Harry shouted, but Hermione was already walking out the alley. They looked at each other and sighed, before sharing a smile.

“Well,” Harry said as they followed her, “at least we’ve got Hermione on our side. She’d probably move a mountain to get us through this.”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed dreamingly, “she’s amazing.”

“Mate, you’ve got it bad.”

Ron shrugged. “Don’t tell Hermione, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“I would never.” Harry agreed. “But I think you’re a fool if you don’t think she doesn’t already know.”

Ron winced.

  
  


The twins shop looked just like it had a couple of days ago, except completely different. Over the course of a couple of days the items of the shelves seemed to have been completely replaced. Harry wondered if they moved things around to fool their customers, or if they actually had that much business. Harry couldn’t remember having ever seen another person in there. Then again, they didn’t really let people go inside, choosing instead to do their business through the large window facing the street, or through numerous runners who would bring the right things to the right people.

Having caught up with Hermione they had all entered the store together, only to have their friend sigh at the mess.

“You don’t need to tell us, Hermione.” Fred said from where he was seated by the window. George appeared from somewhere in the depths of the store and continued. “Harry already complained about the dust last time he was here. Did a splendid job, pretending to be you.”

Hermione made a funny face, looking torn between irritation and flattery. “Well.” She said and then shook her head. “No matter. That isn’t why we’re here.”

“It’s never just a social visit, is it Fred?”

“Certainly not. These people, they call themselves our friends,” Fred answered and George added, “and family,” staring pointedly at Ron, “yet they never come by just to say hello. It’s always business, business, business.”

“Please, like you’ve ever visited our home.” Hermione snapped back.

“That’s because that place depresses us. So small and lifeless. There’s no interesting trinkets or gadgets or toys.” The twins let out a collective sigh.

“Hey!” Ron yelled. “I’ve got plenty of interesting stuff. Like my poster of the Chudley Cannons! It’s even magically charmed not to rip!”

“So,” George said, completely ignoring his brother. “What can we do for you?”

“We need to know more about Riddle.” Harry chimed in.

“More? What happened?”

“He bought our debts.” Hermione cut in, before Harry could open his mouth to tell the full tale.

“He… he what?”

“Bought our debts from Malfoy. And is thus attempting to have us work for him instead.”

“And you don’t… you’re not doing it?” Harry nodded. “And you’re still here, talking, not writhing in horrible pain from a breach of contract?” It was obvious that it wasn’t the case. “Hmm, brother, maybe we need to look into our sources. This doesn’t seem to be right.” George said.

Fred nodded. “Indeed. This goes straight opposite of what we’ve heard.”

“What have you heard?” Hermione asked.

“Well, there’s nothing proven – which by itself is rather damning, isn’t it? – but people who work for Riddle sometimes disappear. Or turn up again, looking rather worse for wear. Listen, this isn’t Malfoy we’re talking about. Riddle doesn’t seem to be the kind of man who’s satisfied with sending his goons over to give people who slight him a trashing. I’m surprised he didn’t activate the magical consequences the moment you told him it isn’t happening.”

Harry grimaced. While there was aspects of Riddle that seemed unsavoury, he still hadn’t seemed that bad. The twins were painting him out to be some sort of terrible madman, while in all honesty what Harry had seen was an indulgent lord who was too used to get his own way.

“So what you’re saying is we better jump to it?” Ron asked, looking pale.

“Unless you’ve figured out a way to get out of the contract, scot-free.”

“I think you would’ve already known if we had.”

George wandered over to Ron, leaned in close and put his hand on his shoulder. “In that case, little brother, please do what he asks. We don’t want to see anyone else in our family get hurt.”

“He...” Ron swallowed. “He did tell Harry it was just one job, right?”

“And then what?”

“Then he’d consider the contract fulfilled.”

The twins exchanged a glance. “Right… that sounds like it’s too good to be true.”

“Exactly!” Harry agreed. “So that’s why we need you to help us figured it out. Are we going to die on this job?”

“Well...” George hedged, and Fred continued. “Unless you have some more information to go on, we’d say it seems likely.”

“There is one more thing.” Hermione looked deep in contemplation. “Riddle said that apparently Harry has some sort of anti-magic skill going on. Like he couldn’t be tracked. And he it seems like it can’t be done with the help of a spell. So if this is such a rare thing, then maybe...”

“Oh, and he didn’t pay mine or ‘mione’s debts until after Harry had declined his offer anyway.” Ron chimed in.

The twins blinked and turned to Harry. “So what you’re telling us is, you’ve been hiding this great skill all along?”

“What?! No, I didn’t know this thing existed. I’m still not certain Riddle wasn’t just talking out of his arse.”

“No no, that wouldn’t make any sense. Why would he bother making this up? And why would he go to you, specifically, if it wasn’t true?” Fred raised his hands in a calming gesture. “You know I’m not trying to be rude, you’re a pretty good thief but there must be hundreds of those on the isles. Anyone would have done it, and for less.”

Harry sighed and nodded. He had been thinking the same thing, after all.

“That’s actually a good thing!” George said. “I think it severely lowers the risk of this being a mission that will kill you.”

“Why?”

“Because if you hadn’t had this skill, then odds are that you would just straight up not be able to get to whatever you’re going to steal, _or_ you could get to it but it would almost certainly kill you. Which is why Riddle would be forced to resort to getting you, in particular, to do this for him. And it also explains why you still aren’t crawling on the floor in agony.” The last was said with a big grin on his face as George looked really proud of himself.

“So what you’re saying is,” Ron said slowly, “That it really is _Harry_ who has all the power here?”

The twins grinned at him. “That, dear brother, is exactly what we’re saying.”

Harry still wasn’t convinced. “But that’s why he got their contracts as well. Because he knows that even if he can’t threaten me, I’d never let Ron or Hermione suffer.”

“Nah, Harry, you just gotta play it cool. Riddle is clearly desperate. He’ll fold, if you show him that you won’t back down either. And he can’t kill either of them, because then he would lose any leverage he had.”

That’s what they said, but Harry was still feeling weary as the trio made their way back home an hour or so later. Despite all of their reassurances, and Hermione and Ron promising him that they could deal with a little pain, it wasn’t something that sat right with him. Easy enough to say it, but if push came to shove, Harry wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his cool when his friends were suffering. Even if it wouldn’t kill them.

“Don’t you worry, Harry,” Ron was saying with false enthusiasm, the red-head wasn’t too fond of pain, even if he tried to act like it didn’t bother him, “we’ll have a nice meal and things will feel better. Like, imagine, Hermione got this nice meat on the market! Because now we can afford to buy it! It’ll be a great treat!”

“Sure,” Harry agreed, “I know that’s nice but I don’t want...”

He stopped in the doorway, staring into their house in a stupor. Everything was as they had left it, except for the pile of three scrolls lying innocently on the table, magic seals glinting in the light from the window.

“Is that…” He swallowed. “Is that what I think it is?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing golden trio interactions for this fic, I just really enjoy making them be proper friends :D   
> But also aaah, I failed my own goal of having some smut in each chapter... but honestly there just wasn't any reasonable place to put it without making this chapter so much longer. Oh well.


	5. Desperate times

It took Hermione physically pushing him to get Harry to move again, the second time in as many days. Harry absently wondered how many times that would happen. He took a few faltering steps forward, letting Ron enter the room as well.

Hermione was already by the table, hands flicking out and picking up a scroll.

“Sealed by the Malfoy estate...” she whispered, but in the current silence the words still travelled. “This… why would he leave these?”

Ron, also moving faster than Harry, scuttled over to the table. “Hey, there’s a note!” He picked the paper up, only to have it snatched by Hermione.

“Dear Harry,” she read, “I apologise for the anger my rash actions have caused. As a token of goodwill, I have left the contracts in your possession, for you to do with as you please. You may consider the debt for you and for your friends cleared.” Hermione stopped.

“What!?” Ron was shouting but Harry remained silent. Somehow, this was exactly what he had expected when he laid eyes on the contracts on the table. From the little he had seen of the other man, it somehow fit. Even if it didn’t. Because this was a damned lord, who the twins were certain was mixed up in some bad business. So the only reasonable explanation was that there had to be a catch.

Even if Harry couldn’t see it yet.

Hermione stood staring at the note for a second before she let it flutter to the table and picked up a scroll from the table. It was with barely a second hesitation that she broke open the seal, unravelling the paper swiftly. Her eyes wandered across the writing, hands shaking.

“I.. I think it’s real.” She said after a moment, almost tossing the scroll down and reaching for another, giving it the same treatment. “These are our contracts. And they’re… they’re signed over to us. See?”

She shoved the parchment at Harry, holding it close enough that he could make out the end, where Riddle had signed his name. Above it was a paragraph stating the contract was nullified.

“Shit.” Ron said, staring at the contract she had tossed on the table. “Like, I don’t understand half of these words but even I know enough to get that this means its completed. Like, zero moneys left to pay.”

Harry took the contract Hermione still was holding in his face and realised his hands were shaking as well. Small tremors that felt like they were travelling through his arms. This.. this wasn’t… he was supposed to be mad! At Riddle, because the man was an arse! Did this mean that he actually wasn’t?

“Fuck…” He muttered, shoulders hunched. “I don’t understand...”

“It’s like Ron says...” Hermione started.

“No! No, I understand that… it’s just, why? Why would he do this? What’s the catch?”

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it again. She bit her lip the way she always did when there was a problem she couldn’t solve.

“Uh, ‘mione?” Ron said. “You didn’t finish reading the letter.”

Hermione blinked. Harry’s head snapped up.

Seeing that he had their attention, Ron began to read. “Despite these circumstances, I would still like to make use of your services and would certainly reward you handsomely. If you are willing to discuss the terms, I will be staying in Tutshill for the next couple of days on business. Please drop by my train carriage at your convenience.” He paused. “So that’s it then!”

“What’s it?” Hermione frowned.

“That’s the catch.”

“That’s not a catch. We knew he wanted Harry to steal something for him all along. Now he’s just offering to pay him for it. While apparently paying off our debts which would set him back thousands. Like it’s nothing.”

“Well, I still think it’s the catch. Like, somehow. Blackmail.”

“It’s _not_ blackmail!” Hermione exclaimed, exasperated. “How is it blackmail?”

While his friends bickered, Harry was very glad that they weren’t paying any attention to him as the content of that letter could certainly be interpreted differently. _Services._ Was that a hint that not only did Riddle want him to steal something, but also continue their earlier… business? Maybe it wasn’t so much blackmail as a bribe. He hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. And he really wished that the idea of it was so appealing.

“Harry!” Ron shouted, effectively bringing Harry’s attention back to the room. “Tell her!”

“Uh… tell her what?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Tell her how it’s blackmail!”

“Uh, I… yeah there’s obviously something odd going on...”

“Oh geez,” Hermione threw her hands up. “Great speech, I’m convinced! Come on, stop nattering nonsense!”

“Well, actually I wasn’t...” Harry started, but fell quiet at her glare. Ron had zipped his mouth shut as well, even if he was still staring at her defiantly. “Well, alright, it’s probably not blackmail. But I’m sure there’s something! He’s a lord, for crying out loud.”

“I never said I think he did this out of the goodness of his heart.” Hermione sighed. “But unless anyone can come up with what he could possibly gain by giving us the contracts just like that, then...”

“Maybe it’s easier than you think.” Someone chimed in from behind Harry. He turned with a start, halfway ready to bold and escape through the window.

“Oh, Ginny!” Ron exclaimed and Harry fought to calm down.

“Blimey, you’re gonna give me a heart attack!” Harry hissed.

Ginny just shrugged. “It’s not my fault any of you were paying attention. Well, except for Hermione, of course.” She waved to the bushy haired woman. “But she was too busy telling you guys off to greet me.”

“Sorry Ginny.” Hermione said.

“No worries!” The red-haired girl smiled widely and walked further into the apartment, seating herself on one of the kitchen chairs. “So, my dearest brothers tell me you guys are having some exciting times.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Hermione nodded.

“And based on what I just overheard, things are developing quickly. Almost faster than Harry during puberty.” She winked at him and Harry couldn’t help the startled laugh that slipped out. If anyone would know, it would be Ginny. “But anyway, to the point. I think you’re overcomplicating things here. Remember what Fred and George said? Riddle is desperate, whatever god granted you this talent it must be rare, and he can’t afford to get on your bad side. So, if you were a lord with access to unlimited funds and power, and all you got in response to your attempts to buy yourself a slave was capricious and burning fury-” she paused and gave Harry a look when he opened his mouth to protest, “oh you know you fly off the handle, don’t even try it – then what would you do?”

She paused, clearly intending for them to answer. None of them did.

“Weeell… clearly what you do is approach things from a different angle. Riddle realised he couldn’t force you to work for him. So instead he’s trying to get you to like him enough that you’ll do it anyway. And _that’s_ the angle.”

“You might be… you might be right.” Hermione nodded, thoughtful. “The simplest reason usually is the correct one. We haven’t been thinking like rich people do. Even if this is a lot of money, they have plenty more to spend.”

“Ugh.” Harry shook his head. “That just makes me like him less. Imagine thinking thousands of galleons as money you can just lose because that way didn’t work out for you.”

“Well, Harry-kin, you are a special little butterfly, after all.” The red-head laughed. “I guess he just thinks you’re worth it.”

Harry went pale. “That might be even worse!”

Instead of sympathy, that statement was met with laughter and the feeling in the room lightened. Harry grabbed the note from the table and threw himself down on the couch, lifting the paper to eyeline and scanned it again.

Reading it was worse than hearing Ron read it out loud, because this way Harry could just imagine the insinuation running between the lines. He would be lying if he didn’t find there to be something flattering that Riddle would go out of his way like this to keep him happy. Getting him to agree to do it was probably not the only reason why Riddle had chosen this path. Was he flattering himself by believing that the lord actually was interested in having him actually doing this out of his free will?

Possibly. But Harry would imagine that if he had to work with someone, he would also rather they did it out of their own free will and not because they had to do it. Made for nicer conversations, after all. Although Riddle might not care about that. So maybe, yeah, he was probably flattering himself a little bit. It still felt good to think about.

“Well,” he said after a while, lowering the paper and staring at the rest of them, sitting around the table. “What do you think I should do, then? Do I accept the offer?”

“First of all,” Ron said, looking uncharacteristically serious. “There’s no ‘I’ mate. If you’re doing this, we’re coming with you.”

Hermione nodded. “And second, I think we should at least go hear him out. Considering all the factors, I don’t think you not showing up would stop him from coming back again. So we go there, and we have a chat with him. Find out the details of just what he wants us to do and only then make our decision.”

“And if we don’t like what he has to say?”

“Then we say no. Firmly, so he knows that there’s no point in coming back.”

“Right...” Harry nodded. “I’ll leave that to you in that case. Don’t think anyone can be quite as firm as you, ‘mione.”

“I take that as a compliment.” She smiled and looked out the window. By now the sun had begun to set, but it wasn’t yet dark out. “Do we go now, or wait until tomorrow?”

Ginny shrugged. “Well, I’m here now, so I don’t see why we won’t get it over with.”

The trio blinked at her. “Uh, Gin?” Ron asked.

“What? I’m coming with you. There’s no way I’m missing this, it seems like it’ll be great fun! And who is going to report back to the twins otherwise? Can’t trust any of you to give them proper information.”

Should they argue? Harry didn’t want Ginny to get in trouble but, she certainly would do whatever she pleased anyway. Arguing seemed to be a waste of time and effort.

“Fine.” Harry said, even thought Ron looked ready to say no. “But you’ll follow our lead. Don’t want a repeat of when you got lost in Zabini’s hedge maze.”

“Yes sir!” Ginny did a mock salute and then bounced up from her chair. “Well, then, let’s go!” She was out the door before anyone had the chance to say anything.

“Well,” Hermione mused. “Good thing she listened.”

  
  


Getting down to the train-station was a matter of minutes. Tutshill being pretty much a large transit town, the railroad stretched along the centre of it, effectively dividing the town in two. Unsurprisingly the rich kept to one side and those less fortunate to the other. However, finding Riddle’s carriage took them some time.

The railroad actually consisted of two tracks which then split off into several areas where trains could stand during the night or while being repaired. Riddle’s carriage had been placed in one of these, but they had gone through three already before they finally found it. Considering it looked pretty much like any passenger cart from the outside, they had been forced to stop and double-check every so often which had been rather a drag.

“Ah, of course it would be.” Harry muttered as they finally stumbled upon the correct wagon. It was obvious in hindsight, because it was the only train where the lights were on inside. “Could have saved us some time.”

“Being told where they parked would have been even better.” Ron agreed.

“Oh, would you two stop being so whiny?” Ginny was still walking with a bounce in her step, as if this was all a fun adventure. For her, it probably was. Regardless of the outcome she wouldn’t be particularly affected.

“Yeah, she’s right. Let’s just get this done.” Harry took a deep breath and then marched up to the carriage purposefully.

On the side by the door there was a small stair to let passengers board the train easier. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any platform here, so even reaching the steps forced them to jump to get up.

“I can’t see Riddle doing this.” Ron whined as he pulled himself up after Harry. “Seem not very dignified. Lords doesn’t like that kind of thing.”

“I’m sure he’s got an easier way, Ron.” Hermione replied.

“Probably uses magic.” The brunette grumbled and raised his hand to knock on the door. It opened before he had the chance to touch it and the burly guard Harry had met before opened it. “Uh, hi?”

The guard stared down at him, expressionless.

“I… I have an invitation? Sort of… like I was told to come here, see?”

The man sighed. “My Lord instructed me to let you in. He didn’t mention you would bring a whole pack.”

“Well, they’re with me. So either you let them in, or we’re leaving.”

The guard raised an eyebrow. “You might as well leave. Lord Riddle is currently not in.”

“What? Where is he?”

“None of your concern.” The man crossed his arms. “So if there’s nothing else...”

Harry shook his head. Fine, if this was how they would be greeted, then he didn’t see why they would even try to meet him.

“Well, sorry, do you know when he’ll be back?” Hermione poked her head around Harry, giving the guard her best smile.

He blinked and then sighed again, longer this time. “Fine. Come in and wait. He should be back shortly.” He moved out of the way to let them in. Harry walked in, taking in the familiar sight. The carriage looked about the same, only a curtain at the end of the room had been pulled back to reveal what looked like a sleeping area. Which made sense, Riddle had said he would rather sleep in here than the hotel.

Behind him, Ron let out stutter. “Uhhhg… what was that?”

Harry raised an eyebrow and looked back. Only Ron had spoken but both Hermione and Ginny looked uncomfortable, shaking themselves like they were trying to get rid of dust. “What?”

“That feeling when walking inside… it’s like someone.. ugh, I don’t know… like someone dragged something slimy across my skin.” Ginny said.

Ron continued. “And then through your body until nothing feels quite right anymore.”

“Uh-huh…” Harry blinked at them.

“It’s not really possible to describe… You didn’t feel it, Harry?” Hermione asked when he continued to stare blankly at them. “Maybe it’s true then...”

The guard who had remained mostly impassive until then chuckled. “You should be glad I was here to let you in. If you thought this was bad, I don’t think you would’ve much liked how it would feel to break in.”

“I don’t know why you assume we would have tried to break in if no one had been here.” Hermione snipped back.

“Well, this one already has done it once.” The guard pointed at Harry. “So, felt reasonable to assume.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault you didn’t notice someone jumping past you and going through the door.”

“And I’m not the one trying to enter a clearly restricted area. Only one type of person does that.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry sneered. “What kind of person is that?”

The guard opened his arms and hands in an all-encompassing gesture and sneered back. “A thief.”

Harry opened his mouth to snap back but, honestly, the man wasn’t wrong. “Well,” he said instead, “I can’t argue with the truth.” Then gave the guard a wide grin before heading over to the upholstered seats by the window and flinging himself into one.

There was a moment when he could see the guard trying to decide how to deal with him and he heard Hermione’s deep sigh. Then the man laughed again.

“At least you’re honest, kid!” He thundered. “I’ve got a feeling we’ll get on great. I’m Bartemius, but you can call me Barty.”

By the time Riddle stepped through the door they were all sitting in the plush chairs and laughing as Ron and Barty bickered over which team was the best. No one noticed his arrival until he was stood next to the guard.

“I see you managed to find your way over.” As they paused and looked over at him, Barty going pale and stiffening, quickly pulling his back straight and adopting a formal posture, Riddle smiled. Harry didn’t know how to interpret it, because it certainly wasn’t heartfelt, yet somehow the lord didn’t seem mad either. “And you’ve managed to completely derail Bartemius from his duties. I should have expected nothing less.”

“Eh… Welcome back?” Harry tried.

The smile turned a degree warmer. “Well, being received by you isn’t too bad either.”

Uh-oh. Harry suddenly realised that he should have come alone. That slight smile was making him feel rather warm inside, and torn between being embarrassed at how he was reacting and wishing his friends would just leave so Riddle could go ahead and come a bit closer.

… On second thought, it probably was a good thing they were here.

“We came to hear you out.” Hermione interrupted, and Harry let out a breath of relief that she hadn’t noticed anything. Not that there was anything to notice, of course.

“Indeed. I’m grateful that you would grant me the courtesy.” Riddle nodded at Hermione, expression honest. “I was concerned you wouldn’t.”

As he spoke he stepped forward so that he stood at the end of the table. The brief attention he had given Hermione passed over to Harry again, and the brunette squirmed. The intensity in those eyes were enough to make him feel like Riddle would just jump him.

“And by any means we shouldn’t.” Ginny piped in, startling Harry enough that he broke eye-contact with Riddle. “It’s rather suspect, don’t you think, suddenly giving up what might amount to a small fortune, just out of the goodness of your heart?”

This time Riddle’s smile was rather stiff. He inclined his head to Ginny. “You are correct, of course. I understand that it might seem rather abrupt, but after mine and Harry’s tête-a-tete in Malfoy Manor,” at Ron and Harry’s rather blank stares, he backtracked slightly. “After our _conversation,_ if you can call one man shoving the other against the wall a conversation – which I have to admit was a rather novel experience for me. Normally I’m the one doing the shoving.”

He smirked at Harry who, while not knowing fancy foreign words, definitively knew how to recognize an innuendo when it was leering at him, blushed a dark red. At that, Riddle looked pleased while Ginny stared at Harry and then at Riddle, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Anyway,” Riddle continued, “after that I had a bit of a change of heart. I truly hadn’t considered things from your point of view and Harry helped me realise that it was a thoughtless thing to do. A man’s choice should always be his own.”

Ginny let out a derisive laugh. “So what you’re saying is that Harry isn’t the type of person to fall for your fucking cheap attempts at bullying and you are desperate enough that you had to change them.”

Riddle’s face froze and there was a long moment when it seemed like everyone held their breath. Then the lord let out a light laugh. “I suppose in the end the result would be the same, even if I wonder what made you have such a low opinion of me.”

The red-head just raised an eyebrow and gave her head a small shake.

“Oh, by the way, I believe we haven’t been formally introduced.” Riddle continued. “Harry I’ve met, of course,” he nodded towards him, “but I haven’t had the chance to be introduced to your friends. You seemed to be rather in a rush, last time.” He bent over Harry to reach his hand out to Ginny. “My name is Tom Riddle. It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Ginny said, but she took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “I’m Ginny.” When she dropped her hand, she let it land on Harry’s thigh.

“Delightful.” Riddle’s eyes dropped to follow the movement and his voice practically dripped of insincerity, but he quickly moved on to Ron, who was sitting opposite of Ginny. “And you must be this young lady’s brother. Which makes you Ron Weasley.”

“Uh. Yeah, that’s me.” They shook hands. “Nice to meet you and all.”

When Riddle turned to Hermione the woman was already on her feet, hand at the ready. “Nice to meet you,” she said, “I’m Hermione.”

“A decisive woman, I can tell. It’s an admirable trait.”

Hermione blushed and Harry felt slightly more comfortable now that he was in good company.

“W-well, how rude of us, just sitting here when it’s your carriage and everything.” She suddenly stammered. “Would you like to sit?”

“I’d be delighted to.” Riddle smiled and then twisted his head to look at Harry. “You don’t mind moving over a little, do you, Harry?”

Actually, Harry did. But Riddle was already moving so unless he wanted his lap full of lord, Harry had to slide to the side. It ended up being a rather tight squeeze, Riddle on one side and Ginny on the other. He could feel Riddle’s heat where their tights and arms met.

“Is this alright,” Riddle asked in a low voice, “do you have enough space, Harry?”

“Uh, I… actually...”

“It’s okay,” Ginny piped up from the other side. “There’s some space here. Come on Harry, move a bit closer to me. Don’t be shy, we’ve been closer before.”

“Yeah, I uh, alright.” Harry began to move, but Riddle stopped him.

“Oh, it’s no bother at all, Ginny. I’ll just move my arm a bit, and there will be plenty of space.”

The arm that had been resting next to Harry’s shifted, moving up until it was lying along the top of the seat, Riddle’s hand falling down to rest gently against the backrest next to Harry’s head. If it shifted, occasionally brushing against Harry’s hair and ear, well, then it would look like nothing but an accident. Wouldn’t it?

“Well,” Hermione began as soon as it seemed they were all comfortable. She ignored Harry’s attempts at shimmying away, while being unable to actually move anywhere. “We don’t want to take up too much of your time. It’s late already.” She glanced out the window, as if looking at the sky. Since they were in the train hangar, the only thing visible was the darkness of the building. “Oh. So, maybe we could hear your terms and we’ll… see if we can reach a decision.”

“An excellent idea, Miss Granger.” Riddle nodded. He leaned forward slightly, arm falling off the back of the couch to rest against Harry’s shoulders. Ginny glared. “What I would like to ask of you, and Harry in particular, is to fetch me something. I imagine Harry already told you some, but suffice to say this item is guarded by quite powerful magical defences. It might be possible to break them with enough force, I won’t lie, but Harry’s help would simplify the matter quite a bit.” He paused. Noting their expressions. “Of course, you would be rewarded greatly for your time.”

“What is this item?” Harry asked, at the same time Ron opened his mouth to ask, “How great are we talking?”

“Right to the point.” Riddle smiled widely. “It’s a box, about the size of a short sword. Light enough that you can carry it with ease. As for the reward...” Riddle glanced down at Harry, eyes dark. “I would be happy to take requests.”

Harry swallowed.

“They want five-hundred thousand galleons.” Ginny said flatly.

Across from her, Ron choked on air and Hermione spluttered at the bold request. Harry just turned around to stare at her. Even for a lord who didn’t appear to care about money, that was a ridiculous sum.

“Ah,” Riddle nodded. “It’s understandable that you wouldn’t want to feel cheated. Five-hundred might however be a bit out of even my range. What do you say about twenty?”

“A hundred!” Ginny countered.

“Twenty-five.” Riddle had turned now and was face Ginny, his arm still around Harry’s shoulder bringing the brunette close.

“Fifty.”

Harry wasn’t sure how Ginny could just sit there and talk calmly about these absurd numbers. But she was facing Riddle with a determined expression.

“Thirty-five. And that is my final offer. Enough money for a lifetime for the three of you, with some to spare.” He leaned closer to Ginny, chest pushing against Harry’s arm. And that’s when Harry felt it, the outline of an oval against his chest.

Ginny opened her mouth, but Harry shook his head and raised a hand. “Thirty-five. And...” he swallowed. “And the locket.”

Riddle faced him with the most incredulous expression Harry had seen on the man’s face. The lord backed off slightly, arm falling off Harry’s shoulder.

“The locket, Harry..?”

Harry nodded, powered by an urge he hadn’t realised was growing.

“This isn’t just any old trinket, darling.” Riddle was staring him down. “It’s an old family heirloom. It’s not something I can give away just like that.”

“Then we don’t have a deal. And you can try to find someone else with my skill.” For some reason, Harry was certain that if he pushed, he would get his way and he’d get to run the locket through his fingers again. Harry moved to get up, but Riddle grabbed his shoulder to push him down again.

“Let’s not be hasty.” He paused, eyeing Harry. “Alright, you may have the locket as well, provided you can get the box to me without alerting anyone. Consider it a bonus, for a job well done.”

Harry grinned at him. “Well, I’ll take it. But you can consider the locket mine, because I don’t get noticed.”

“Oh, don’t you? I certainly couldn’t help but notice you... But if you do manage and you do real good, I promise I’ll be good to you as well.” Riddle’s tone had gone back to playful, sending little shivers running down Harry’s spine.

“Harry!” Hermione’s sharp reprimand brought him out of it. “You can’t just accept it! We work as a team, remember?”

“Uh, yeah, sure but ‘mione it’s thirty-five...”

“I know it is! But we always discuss these things.” She looked up at Riddle. “Sorry, would you excuse us for a moment?” The lord waved a hand in a go ahead gesture and Hermione dragged the boys outside of the carriage. Ginny followed along without prompting.

“Harry! What were you thinking?!”

“He’s obviously thinking we’re going to be rich!” Ron shouted, probably loud enough that it could be heard inside the train.

“I don’t think he was thinking with the right head.” Ginny snipped. Ron turned to look at her, confused. “What? Are you seriously telling me you didn’t notice that?”

“Notice what?”

“That it was a really comfortable seat!” Harry tried to burst in, eyes wide with panic.

“No! Don’t even try to distract him, Harry!” Ginny snapped. “How didn’t you notice Riddle barely holding back from tearing Harry’s clothes off in there?!” When Ron and Hermione stared without saying anything she continued. “And that Harry seemed quite eager to help him out!?”

“H-hey!” Harry tried to defend himself. “It’s not...”

“Oh please, if things got any hotter between you two the whole place would burst into flame. Besides, Riddle wasn’t subtle with his attempts of getting you away from me.”

“So that’s what it was!” Hermione snapped her finger. “Oh it was really bothering me I couldn’t understand why it was quite that tense.”

“God Hermione, you’re so clever yet sometimes...” The girl shook her head.

“Wait..!” Ron burst in. “You and Riddle?! What, but… how is it even..?!”

“Well…” Harry started, desperately trying to come up with an excuse.

Ron barged on as if he hadn’t opened his mouth. “Have you already.. you know..?”

Harry blushed beet red and said “I.. uh… I’d rather not talk about it.” At the same time Hermione burst out “Ron! That’s not something you just ask...”

By the way all eyes snapped to him, Harry knew he’d messed up. Hermione’s reprimand hadn’t been enough to drown his flustered defence out.

Not that it had been much of a defence, really. ‘I don’t want to talk about it’? He might just as well have told them that he let Riddle stick his hand down his pants. And perhaps worse, let Riddle stick his dick down his throat.

“It… it won’t happen again!” Harry shook his head, unable to stand the silence.

“Oh Harry...” Ginny shook her head. “That’s the saddest excuse of a lie I’ve ever heard.”

“No, but it’s.. it’s not!” He grabbed her shoulder. “I mean I made a mistake! So I’m not going to go back and...”

The red-head sighed. “It’s even sadder when you try to lie to yourself. I always wondered why you weren’t more interested in forming a relationship with me after that night, but I guess I just wasn’t your type.”

“No, that’s not true..” Harry tried again.

“Perhaps not.” The girl shrugged her slender shoulders. “But I’m definitively not as much your type as he is.”

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it again. He wanted to argue, but it was clear Ginny had made up her mind. And any excuses he tried to make felt hollow and weak, either way. Because she wasn’t wrong, just being in Riddle’s presence was enough to make his skin tingle. But that didn’t mean he was going to let it continue. Especially not if they accepted his offer.

“But I...” Ron said in the ensuing silence, “what.. do we still do it?”

“Do what?”

“Take the job of course! It’s thirty-five thousand were talking about!”

Hermione frowned and then she shifted so she was facing Harry head on, placing her hands gently on his shoulders. “Harry.” She said. “I don’t know how this happened between you and Riddle, and I know you’re not the kind of guy to just go for it. So I need you to know that you can say no. Even if Ron and I will be with you every step of the way, if you’re not comfortable doing this we’ll just say no and walk away. We don’t need that much money anyways, and now that we’re free from Malfoy, nothing’s stopping us from just making a living.”

Next to her, Ron was nodding enthusiastically. “She’s right mate. Like, I don’t even know when you found the time to bang Riddle-” at this both women disapprovingly cried ‘Ron!’, “but we’ll be fine, either way. Although you did really seem to want that locket, huh?”

Looking between his two best friends, Harry felt something warm unfurl in his chest. Their expressions were so earnest and compassionate, despite having just found out Harry’s dirty secret.

“Look, guys...” Harry said. “I.. you’re too the best, you know that? And I don’t… I think we should take it. This is, this is the opportunity we’ve been waiting for, you know? The chance to start fresh, enough money to get by while we learn an honest profession.” He paused, looking at their smiling faces. “And Ron’s right, I’d really like to get my hands on that locket. I know you never saw it, but damn...”

The faces split into wide grins as he finished and the trio nodded at each other. They were going to do this and their lives would finally be different.

“Hey guys,” Ginny piped in from where she was standing off to the side. “Don’t forget about me.” Harry gave her a confused look. “Don’t act like that! I’m coming too!”

“What? Ginny, you’re fine here.” Ron argued. “You’re working with the twins, and never owed Malfoy anything so you’re fine.”

“That’s right! Which means I’m free to go as I please. And I want to come with you.”

For some reason, Harry didn’t think that was a good idea. Riddle and Ginny really didn’t seem to get along. “Why would you even want to come?”

She lifted her chin and gave him a challenging stare. “You all saw what happened in there? Who’s going to stand up for you if I’m not coming along?”

“Sure, but… I.. I don’t think Riddle will be too happy...” Harry tried.

“Like I give a rats ass about what that stuck-up lordling thinks!”

“But Gin, it’s gonna be dangerous..!” Ron shook his head. “I’m not gonna bring you with and put you in danger!”

“I think that’s my decision to make, don’t you?” Ginny had widened her stance and put her hands on her hips, obviously not budging.

“Ginny, I don’t think it’s a good idea either.” Hermione said, voice full of reason. “I think you can do more good here, as our contact. Besides, the twins need you helping out, right?”

“Oh, the twins give me busywork. They don’t actually need me around.” She sunk in on herself a little and then straightened again. “So that’s that! I’m going with you, or none of us goes!”

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione and shrugged. Ginny clearly wasn’t going to change her mind. It might not be too bad to let her tag along and then leave her at camp. Harry had a suspicion that he would have to go alone anyway, when it came to it.

“Let’s go inside. We’ll see what Riddle says.” Harry said and Ron and Hermione nodded reluctantly.

They climbed back inside, Ginny taking the lead and not even bothering to knock before slamming open the door and stepping inside. Or at least attempting to step inside. The moment her foot crossed the threshold something flung her back, making the girl stumble.

Riddle looked up from where he was standing face to face with Barty. The guard looked quite uncomfortable and Riddle had an unreadable expression on his face. As Ginny flailed it slipped into one of politeness.

“Didn’t your mother teach you to knock?” He smiled. “It’s especially important when dealing with magical housings.” A pause as the colour rose in Ginny’s face. “But by all means, please enter.”

Ginny stepped through, face set and body tense in preparation to be ejected again. But this time she walked through without problems and the rest of them followed suit.

“Still don’t believe in my barrier, Harry?” Riddle asked and Harry only shrugged in response. “Please have a seat. I suppose you’ve talked over my offer?” They moved further into the room, but remained standing. Riddle didn’t push the point.

“We have.” Hermione said. Ron and Harry were letting her take the lead. She normally was the one who handled any business transactions, so it felt comfortable to stand back and leave it to her. “And thirty-five thousand is acceptable, plus the locket provided we fulfil the condition of retrieving the box without discovery.”

“Great.” Riddle’s smile was content. “We’ll be leaving the day after tomorrow then. Is that acceptable?”

“That’s fine. We’ll all be ready. Do we meet you here?”

Riddle’s head snapped up. “ _All?_ ” He asked. “By which you mean the three of you.”

“Four.” Ginny answered before Hermione could say anything.

“I see.” Riddle shifted his weight from his left leg to his right. “I don’t believe I made the offer to you, miss Weasley.”

“Well, you didn’t have to.” She smiled at him, all teeth. “I’d be happy to come along anyway.”

“As much as I care about your happiness, I don’t believe I can accept those terms. The deal is exclusively for your three,” he nodded to Harry, Ron and Hermione, “and I’m afraid adding another person is... unacceptable.”

“What do you care?” Ginny hissed at him. “You’ll still pay the same, only now you get another person to do your dirty work!”

Riddle’s gaze was cold when he looked at her. “This isn’t up for negotiation. Please remain here like a good girl, miss Weasley.”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” Ginny yelled.

Harry stepped over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Gin,” he said, “please calm down. You know we’re going to share the reward with you anyway, right?”

Ginny shrugged his hand off. “You think this is about money?!” She exlaimed. “God, you can be so stupid sometimes, Harry! But fine, you don’t want me to come and he doesn’t want me to go. So I won’t be part of this _stupid_ deal! But you can’t stop me from going where I please!”

Long hair trailing behind her, Ginny turned on her heel and marched out, throwing the door open and not bothering to close it behind her. This time the barrier let her pass through.

“Ginny!” Harry shouted and moved to follow her.

He was interrupted by Riddle’s deep voice. “Harry. I believe we have a deal to finalize, do we not?”

Hesitating by the doorway for a second, Harry sighed. They could finish this quickly and then he’d find Ginny and sort this out. As he turned around he came face to face with Riddle’s dark gaze. The man was expressionless, but his eyes were filled with anger.

They stared at each other for a few moments and then Riddle tilted his head. “Well then, shall we complete the deal?”

Hermione nodded and they confirmed the final details, Riddle drawing up what he called a standard contract. It was a couple of pages long, but Hermione read through it three times before nodding in satisfaction. She signed her name and motioned for Harry and Ron to do the same. Only then did Riddle take it back.

“Well then,” He smiled at Harry. “I’m excited to get started.”

“Uh.. sure...” Harry answered. “Uhm, bye until then I guess?”

They all headed toward the door, Ron taking the lead followed by Hermione.

“Goodbye for now.” Riddle said and waited until Ron and Hermione had already left. “Oh, and Harry? If you’d like to drop by before then, you would be most welcome. I’ll make sure Barty lets you in so you can get… comfortable.”

Feeling like his face was on fire, Harry rushed out. Riddle’s delighted chuckles following along.

  
  


To say that Harry wasn’t tempted by Riddle’s offer would be nothing but a straight up lie. Even hours after they had left the train, and after a lot of time looking for Ginny – who was nowhere to be found – his words would come back to him.

It would be so easy, Harry thought, lying on his threadbare mattress behind the couch and listening to Ron snoring in the other room, to just get up and sneak out. While it was late, he somehow didn’t think Riddle would mind.

But he couldn’t. Mere hours had passed since he had sworn to Ginny that he wasn’t going to sleep with Riddle again. Even if she had called him a liar, Harry had meant it. That time in the hotel had been a one time thing, a weakness to let himself live out his fantasies, if only a little.

Yet Riddle’s touch had been… amazing. Better than he had expected. Even the barest touch of his fingertips had Harry feeling like electricity was running through him, pleasant yet unstoppable. Now that he actually wasn’t spitting mad at the man, Harry found that he had too much time to consider just how it had felt. And Ginny had been right in one aspect – their night together hadn’t measured up. There was just something…

Harry shook his head. He wasn’t going there, because if he did, he would go further. And further meant that there was no way he would be able to keep his mind out of the gutter the next time he met Riddle. If the lord sat close to him and…

Harry wiggled where he laid, unable to deny that he was getting aroused. Honestly, it probably wasn’t a bad idea to rub one out and take the pressure off. That way he’d be able to focus better the next time he saw Riddle. As long as he didn’t fantasise about him, they would be good.

That settled, Harry quietly slipped his hand down his body, running his fingers gently along the planes of his stomach and further down. He imagined it was Cho, her finely manicured fingers sliding across his skin until they gripped his erection, soft hand stroking it at a leisurely pace.

Harry leaned his head back, trying to really get into it. It wasn’t that it didn’t feel good, just that there was something lacking. The gentle touch wasn’t as exciting as he would have liked. How had Riddle done it again? Harry curled his hand, letting his nails scrape against skin.

Oh. That felt.. that was nice.

Last time with Cho they hadn’t got much further than this, her lying in front of him, dark long hair trailing down and falling between the curve of her breast. She had looked rather absent, Harry suddenly remembered. Like she wasn’t even seeing him. It had been nothing like the way Riddle gazed at him, pupils blown wide and eagerly capturing his every twitch.

Closing his eyes, Harry moved his hand faster. Cho had been a bad option, but now that he had started he was determined to see things through.

“What’s the hurry?” Harry could almost feel the words whispered in his ear and his eyes shot open. Riddle curled close to him, cradling him against his chest. “I want you to cherish this, Harry.”

Fuck. Harry swallowed and his hand moved slower again, yet he was achingly hard. He wasn’t… he wasn’t going to go down that path.

“And why not? What’s wrong with denying yourself this pleasure?” Riddle’s breath would be hot against his ear, each puff of air sending a tickling sensation. “Come on, Harry… do it like I did it to you.”

Unable to stop himself, Harry bit down on his lip and his free hand grasped his hair, grabbing it in a firm hold. He tugged, the sting fuelling him on and his hand was moving faster now, long strokes that had him panting. God, he was so close…

“Good, Harry...” Riddle hissed and that was enough to bring Harry over the edge.

Reeling from the sensation, Harry rolled over on his back. That was not what was supposed to happen at all. He was so screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happened to this story? Where did all this plot and character development come from? I thought it was supposed to be about the smut?  
> ... Well, since Harry's determined not to play with Riddle, I guess he'll just have to play alone. AKA I added the last bit because I wanted to and its nothing but pure indulgence :D
> 
> That being said, I am having a lot of fun writing the dialogue for this. I might be weering out of in-character territory, but so be it. I never wanted this to be too serious a story so yeah... Hopefully that doesn't mean it's become complete nonsesense for you guys <3


	6. Retribution

“Harry!” The hand violently shaking him awake had Harry blinking blearily at the ceiling. “Harry, get up!” Hermione’s voice was shrill, the way it turned when she was very excited about something.

The brunette managed to free a hand from the bedsheets and waved it lazily in her direction. “Alright, alright… I’m up.”

He just had the time to hear Ron murmur from afar. “I don’t think that’s going to cut it today, mate.”

Then Hermione was on him again, ripping at the sheets with enough ferocity to have Harry tumble halfway off the bed.

“Really?” Harry grumbled, but was quick to get on his feet before she had the time to do anything else.

“Yes, really!” The woman nodded at him with a serious expression which only held for a moment before it cracked into something rather gleeful. “We have a lot of things to do today!”

Harry watched her grin rather warily. “You’re way too excited about packing, ‘mione.”

“Oh, forget packing!”

“What!?” Ron and Harry shouted in unison, staring at her in slack-jawed surprise.

“Why are you surprised?” Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow at Ron. “I already told you what we’re doing today. And besides, we barely got anything to pack. Riddle told us he would be providing housing and tools, so we just need the basics.”

“Oh yeah.” Ron nodded, and then he grinned too.

“Uh, guys? Care to fill me in on what’s happening?”

“Right, Harry, mate, this is great! We’re going to..!” Ron started, but was interrupted by Hermione.

“Ron!” When her boyfriend closed his mouth Hermione nodded and turned back to Harry. “We’re going to prank Malfoy.”

Harry started at them for a long second. “Uh, what? I’m sorry I could have sworn you said you were going to prank Malfoy. _Malfoy_.”

“Yeah mate, that’s what we’re gonna do.”

“Well,” Hermione chimed in, “Not Malfoy senior, of course.”

Harry supposed that made a bit more sense. “Oh, uh. Okay. And this was.. whose idea?”

“’Mione’s!” Ron said cheerfully. “And I’ve never been more proud of her!”

Upon seeing that Harry’s expression remained rather sceptical, Hermione blushed lightly and shrugged. “You know, I just felt we gotta do something to get back at him for years of torment. Remember how he used to walk past the orphanage and bully whoever was smaller than him? Especially Neville.”

“And you figured a prank would be the way to do it..?”

“It somehow seemed just.” Hermione waved at Harry to go over to the table and grab a bowl.

Harry did as told, taking a spoonful of his porridge. “It’s not that I disagree with the idea,” he said slowly, “but… have you ever pranked anyone before?”

“Well, it certainly can’t be that different from a con, right?” Before anyone had the time to protest, she continued. “And that’s why we’re in a hurry. We’re going past the twins to get some advice.”

“Learn from the masters.” Harry nodded.

“Exactly.” She seemed pleased that he had finally gotten the point.

Still, talking about the twins inevitably led Harry into remembering what had happened the night before, and that they still hadn’t found Ginny. If anyone would know where she was hiding out, it would surely be her brothers.

“Alright… you go prank Malfoy and I’ll try to find Ginny, make sure she’s not too upset.”

Ron scowled. “Oh, come on. I care about her just as much as you do, but she’s fine. And this is a prank on _Malfoy_! Could you really miss out on seeing the look on his face?”

“I.. I dunno, Ron. She seemed upset for real.”

“Well, she’s probably back at the twins’ place by now. We can talk to her while they help us come up with a masterplan.” Hermione nodded and stood up, taking away the bowls and picking up a pile of notes lying on a side table. “Let’s go.”

Since Harry would have gone to check the shop first anyway, he quickly got ready and they headed down to the market. The twins greeted them in their normal fashion – loudly and with a joke that had Ron’s face going beet red in anger.

“That’s it!” The red-head yelled. “Keep it up and we won’t be letting you in on this. We can figure out how to run a stupid prank ourselves!” He turned on his heel and had a hand on the door-handle before the twins were upon him, placing a hand each on his shoulders.

“A prank, you say?” Fred asked, leaning close.

“You wouldn’t even consider leaving us out of that, would you, brother dear?” George asked from the other side.

“I would and I will!” Ron nodded his head firmly and started to turn the handle.

“Oh Ronnie-kins, you know we were just playing.”

“You think calling me that’s going to make me change my mind?!” The younger brother yelled and was immediately wrestled to the floor by his brothers.

Harry and Hermione stood further into the store, watching the events go down with amusement. The brothers were nothing but a pile of limbs and red hair in the middle of the floor. After pausing for a second Harry sidled closer to Hermione.

“I’m gonna go check if Gin’s in her room.” He said.

Hermione nodded. “You might as well. Better you be out of the way when I start to untangle that mess.”

Harry grinned at her. “Great! Uh, let me know before you leave, alright? Wouldn’t wanna miss the look on that ferret’s face.”

A head poked up from the pile on the floor. “Ferret, you say?” Fred stared at him with eyes wide open. “You’re going to prank the ferret?”

A second head untangled itself. “You were going to walk out on us and prank Malfoy on your own?!” George yelled. “Unforgivable!” Then he was down again, dragging Ron into a headlock while Fred mercilessly tickled his sides.

“Eh, should we...” Harry grimaced and gestured at the pile.

Hermione sighed and gestured. “Go, go, I’ll take care of this.”

Immensely glad to not have to deal with Ron after he had been beaten by the twins, Harry rushed through the door that led to the stairs. On the upper floor of the small building there were three bedrooms. One was Ginny’s and one was the twins. Despite having the chance to sleep separately they had still installed a bunk-bed in their own room and seemed quite content at keeping it that way.

Two of the doors stood open now, but Ginny’s was closed. That was a good sign, Harry figured. Why bother closing it if she wasn’t even there?

“Ginny?” Harry called quietly, knocking gently on the door. “You there?”

“Go away.”

“Oh, come on, let’s… I don’t like how things turned out, Gin. Let’s talk about it.”

There was a moment of silence and then the door was quickly pulled open. Ginny stood on the other side, looking rather terrible. The skin around her eyes was swollen and puffy, eyes shot through with red.

“Hey, Gin, oh, man I’m sorry I never meant to…!”

She shut him up with a rough hug. “Oh, shut up. You’re a stupid idiot, but even I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose.”

Harry hugged her back. “As long as you know I’m an idiot.”

Ginny sighed and burrowed her head against his chest for a moment before pulling back. “Well, since it was so urgent, why don’t you come in, have a seat.”

She didn’t need to tell him twice. Harry followed her into the room and gently closed the door behind him, taking a seat on the side of her bed where she gestured.

“You know I, I care for you a lot, right?” Harry started.

Ginny laughed. “Come on, don’t start that. It’s… last night it wasn’t my best scene, okay? I know you’re only looking after me, like you guys have been most of our life. But I was just...” She sat next to Harry and leaned back on her hands. “… I just wanted to feel like one of the team for once, you know? You and Ron and Hermione… it’s like you’re in your own little world, always got each-others backs, even if you fight. And here I am… who do I got?”

Harry was silent for a moment. “I.. I didn’t know you felt that way, Gin. I mean, you’ve always.. you’ve got Fred and George, right?”

“Hah, Fred and George… Don’t get me wrong, they’re great and they take care of me in their own way. But I’m not needed here. Even if I decided to do something else they wouldn’t be bothered by it.”

“But they… they love you, they’re your family.”

“So do you.” Ginny gave a sour laugh and shook her head. “But it’s not the same. I was just.. I guess a part of me was always hoping that we’d end up together. It’d be Ron and Hermione, and you and me. And then the four of us would face the world together. But it’s getting rather clear that that’s not going to happen.”

“I’m sorry Gin...”

“Again, stop it with the apologies. I don’t want you to apologise, I just want you to love me.” She turned over to see Harry’s conflicted face. “Sorry, that was mean. I know you can’t help it. You’re so nice that if you could have, you probably would have been in love with me just to meet expectations. But you can’t control feelings.”

They faded into silence. Harry felt… he wasn’t sure how he felt, if he was being honest. Of course he loved Ginny, but they had grown up with her peeking out behind the twins legs and trailing after them. A part of him had probably always believed that they were going to become more as well. But after meeting Riddle, any thought of that had been shattered so completely he could barely even remember the feeling. She was nice and she was pretty, but she was also like a sister to him. There was just no attraction.

He hadn’t realised that she might still hold on to that unspoken dream. Ginny probably remembered their drunken tryst quite differently from him. Their first step into what would become their relationship.

Harry could barely even remember what he did after. He’d been hungover, of course, and it had felt awkward the next time they met. There had been hugs and Harry had wondered if he should kiss her, or if that was the wrong thing to do. And that time, she didn’t take the initiative. Heck, she was probably waiting for him to do so.

“Maybe...” Harry said quietly, “Maybe it’s for the best.”

“What?” Ginny turned her head to look at him from where she had been lying and staring at the ceiling.

“No, listen. You deserve someone who can care for you properly. Not me, who’s too stupid to appreciate you properly.”

“Heh,” Ginny snorted. “You really are stupid. So stupid.” But the grin was fading quickly and tears began to well in her eyes.

“Oh no, Ginny...” Harry reached out, horrified and unable to do anything but to wrap her in his arms as she cried.

None of them said anything for a long while, but when Hermione knocked on the door Harry just told her they could get started and he would join them later.

It wasn’t until Ginny calmed down and began to push against his hold slightly that Harry let go of her.

“You should go.” She said, wiping at the tears with her sleeves. “I look awful, and this isn’t how I want you to remember me. Besides, I know you can’t miss the prank of a lifetime, and even if you want to be here to comfort me, you’re gonna stay for a long time, and I’ll get the wrong idea again. So go.”

“Are… are you sure? I don’t feel like you should be alone right now.”

“I’m not sure, but I’m pretty certain it’s for the best. And don’t assume I’m gonna be alone! I’ve know plenty of people in this town. Someone else will be my partner in crime, instead.”

“You’ll find the best one.”

Ginny gave him a wide, confident grin. It felt much more like the girl he knew. “I know I will.”

Harry smiled back and slowly headed to the door, chased out by her firm nod that practically screamed ‘get going’.

When Harry made his way downstairs it was to find George puttering around the store.

“Done breaking my little sisters heart?” He asked, but he didn’t seem mad.

Harry shrugged and joined him by the counter. “I… it was never my intention.”

“It never is.” George shrugged and gave him a half smile.

“So is that’s why you’re still here?”

“Nah mate. Someone needs to look after the store.” The twin answered, but he glanced up the stairs.

“And miss this prank?”

“Well, Fred will see it. So that’s basically like both of us seeing it.” A pause. “Maybe even better, this way I get to hear his retelling. I shouldn’t tell you this but… a Weasley retelling is almost always better than the original.”

Harry laughed. He didn’t doubt it. The stories he had been told in that very room varied from extreme to completely impossible and there weren’t many events that could match up to even their mildest tale.

“Well, I prefer to get both sides. So when we’ve done this thing with Riddle we’ll come back, and Fred can tell us the story of Hermione’s prank on Malfoy.”

George grinned. “It’s going to be a tale for the century, that’s for sure. And you better get a move on, things should start taking place anytime now. Just head down to the ferret’s secret apartment.”

Harry nodded his thanks. “See you later, George!”

  
  


Some forty-five minutes later found Harry crawling up the side of a building to join his friends in their look-out over Malfoy’s apartment. The unofficial one, which the ferret had bought for his peasant lady friend when she threatened to tell his father about them. Hermione had filled him in on all of this, and how _she_ knew, Harry wasn’t sure was knowledge he wanted.

They were perched on the roof of the building on the other side of an alley and had a perfect view of what was going on inside the apartment.

“Hey guys,” Harry said quietly, “Did I miss anything?”

“Nah,” Ron shook his head. “But the ferret’s in the shower, so it’s just about starting.”

As he spoke the door to the bathroom opened and Malfoy walked out, towel primly wrapped around his hips. His blonde hair darkened by water.

Next to Harry, Hermione and Ron were already giggling. Harry took another look, trying to spot what they had done. If I had already happened then it was awfully small to be the greatest prank ever, unless they had changed their mind and decided to just peep instead. Fred wasn’t laughing yet, so Harry assumed it wasn’t quite started and settled in to wait.

He watched while Malfoy’s girl lounged in the bed, seemingly unwilling to move even when Malfoy was clearly gesturing for her to get up and do something.

“He always tries to boss her around,” Hermione confided to them, “despite the fact that she always refuses. The only thing he can get out of her at this point is sex. And I was told she only goes that far because she wants to keep the apartment, and apparently he’s hooked.”

“Man, that’s pathetic.” Ron grinned. Making sure Ron could see, Harry and Fred shared a look, before looking down at Hermione. Ron’s grin faded. “Hey, it’s not the same!”

“Sure it isn’t, little brother. You’re a strong, independent man.”

“Damn straight!”

“Shh, something’s happening!” Hermione hissed, slapping Ron who stopped talking and started at the window in rapt attention.

By this point Malfoy had managed to get half dressed by himself, and was drying his hair with a portable spell in front of a vanity mirror. Only it didn’t seem to lighten much as it dried. Instead – Harry stared in fascination – as the hair dried it seemed to become more and more brightly coloured until Malfoy took notice and put the spell down in favour of grabbing his hair and screaming, loud enough to be heard out on the street.

Next to Harry, the rest of them were already laughing hard and it only took Harry a moment before he too joined in. The bright green of Malfoy’s hair clashed terribly with his pale complexion and the look on his face was far from flattering. Harry laughed even harder when the ferret let go of his hair in favour of waving his arms around in panic, still yelling. Not every word was distinguishable, but the words ‘father’ and ‘kill me’ were clear enough. The thought of how Malfoy senior would react to finding out his son had coloured his hair that awful colour was just too much.

They stayed on the rooftop until Malfoy finished his yelling at the woman for supposedly doing this to him. Thankfully he didn’t get any further, as even a ponce like him came to the realisation that there was no way she could actually afford the magic needed to change his hair. And that she really didn’t have a reason for it. Eventually the hissy fit turned into a session of snapped orders, probably to find him a way to turn his hair back.

“I wish him luck with that,” Fred said, still grinning. “That’s not any old dye, it’s a Weasley special. We made it to be impossible to remove, even if it probably will fade in a couple of weeks.” He shrugged theatrically. “But those are the choices you have to make, we could have made it last forever, but that would make it easy to conceal and remove.”

“How did you even manage that?” Hermione asked. “You would have needed to use magic.”

Fred smirked at her, eyebrow raised. “It’s a Weasley secret. One I’ll take to my grave.”

“Hey,” Ron injected, “I’m a Weasley too!”

“Ah, but not yet old or wise enough to be trusted. You’d tell your girlfriend all our secrets the moment my back’s turned.”

“I would not!”

“Well, actually...” Hermione let the sentence trail, seeming to realise that she was taking the wrong side of the argument.

Fred almost fell over from laughing. “Even she agrees! Sorry brother, no can do.”

Ron huffed. “Fine! Not like I wanted to know anyway.”

“Well, you probably wouldn’t get it, even if he did tell you.” Harry teased. When Ron turned to him with an indignant sound, Harry raised his hands in defence. “Hey, no harm. Neither would I.”

“That’s true.” Fred nodded along. “Maybe I should tell young Harry here. He’s basically an honorary Weasley, and anyway, he’d forget it as soon as I told him.”

Harry gaped at him. “How did this turn on me?!” He asked, putting his hand to his chest in an exaggerated gesture of insult. “I’ll have you know, sir, that I can remember everything!”

“Oh, can you? Too bad you don’t use the skill. I, with my perfect memory, clearly remember the time you were supposed to go on a small, simple job for us. Nothing hard, just stealing a little something.” Fred was gesticulating dramatically. “And you assured us, that everything would go fine. Nothing could possibly go wrong, it would be _sooo_ easy for someone with your abilities. And what did you do, hmm? Come on, Harry, help me remember.”

Harry glared at him from under his bangs. He could remember what happened perfectly well, but he would lose whether he said it or not.

“What, you don’t remember?” Fred continued as Harry kept silent. “Why, what happened was you forgot your lockpick.” A pause, as he let it sink in. Everyone there already knew this story, of course, but Fred was really relishing this retelling. “Your lockpick. The _one_ thing you actually needed. You could have forgotten your clothes for all I care, as long as you had remembered your tools.”

There was another moment of silence where Harry’s glare intensified and Ron and Hermione looked between the pair and then they were laughing.

“Hey, it’s not funny!” Harry tried, but even he couldn’t help but feel the corners of his mouth twitch in humour. “It was an honest mistake. ‘mione moved them!”

“Oh, dangerous ground there, mate, trying to blame Hermione for this.” Ron laughed.

“Man, you guys… I can remember tons of times you messed up too, you know!”

“Yeah, but there are few things that are quite this funny!”

The Weasley brothers doubled over in laughter again at the put-out look on Harry’s face. Harry pointedly turned his back on them and suddenly found himself locking eyes with Malfoy. The blonde git was standing by the window, looking up at them with fury brewing in his eyes.

“Oh shit.” Harry said. “Guys, I think we gotta go.”

They must have been making too much noise, enough to even break through Malfoy’s usual air-headedness.

“What?” Hermione asked with a frown at his suddenly serious tone. Harry just nodded toward the window and her eyes widened in comprehension. “Yeah, he’s right. Time to move it. Come on, Ron!”

Ron had just started to protest against Hermione grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the edge of the building when they all noticed the sound of heavy footsteps rushing up the stairs. While they never used them, most taller buildings had a central staircase only accessible from the inside of the building that led to the roof.

“Uh, you don’t think..?” Harry hedged.

“I really think, yes.” Hermione nodded.

“Alright, time to go. Hope you got your running shoes.” Fred hissed and then he was off, running to the opposite side of the roof and flinging himself over the edge, just barely managing to catch the roof opposite.

The trio wasn’t far behind, dashing across the edge with quite a lot more grace than Fred had showed.

“You spend too much time in the store.” Hermione chided him as she and Ron stopped to help him up.

The door to the roof they had just left burst open and four bulky men rushed out. They were clearly Malfoy’s bodyguards, Harry had seen them enough times to recognise them on sight.

Taking quick stock of the situation Harry gazed around himself, trying to judge which building would be the best to go to. They had managed to pick badly, all buildings around this one stood a bit apart, just slightly too far to make the jump. He quickly gestured downwards.

“We’re gonna have to climb. Come on!”

Loud shouts were coming from the other roof, answered by echoes from below.

Scaling a building wasn’t very hard in theory, but Harry always found that going down was much more bothersome than going up, unless you were taking the quick route. And he really preferred not to be chased while doing so. So he’d only got about halfway down when he decided that enough was enough and let himself fall, evening the impact by rolling as he landed and just barely avoiding a barrel he hadn’t seen.

“Harry!” Hermione hissed at him, still on her way down. “I’ve told you not to do that!” Then she sighed in exasperation as Ron rolled to a stop just next to him, Harry reaching out to stop him from hitting the wall.

“Boys will be boys, Hermione.” Fred said, voice sage-like.

“Come on, hurry up!” Ron hissed once he was on his feet, having run down to the end of the alley and peeked out. “They’re almost here!”

Hermione let out another deep sigh and then jumped the last bit as well, landing lightly with bent knees. Fred followed, with a slight thud.

They rushed out of the alley in the opposite direction, although Malfoy had somehow managed to amass enough men that Harry quickly spotted them barging down this street as well.

“There’s too many!” Harry yelled. “We’re splitting up.”

Ron and Hermione nodded and as they kept running they took off down different alleys, Harry giving Fred a slight shove to get into another one. He still kept running down the street for a while longer, well aware that most of the guards were still focused on him and that the longer they followed him, the longer his friends would have to make a getaway.

Still, he wouldn’t be able to keep it up forever. After a final check at his pursuers Harry turned into an alley as well, criss-crossing down the narrow streets until he got to the place he wanted to; Stonewell square.

It was packed and Harry thanked the stars they had done this on a Saturday. Well in the crowd, and after having caused the occasional annoyed shout, Harry slowed down until he was moving at a speed of just a bit faster than most people in the crowd. He was lucky that he had a rather short stature, so getting lost in crowds was easy.

The guards weren’t so lucky. Most of them had clearly been hired based on their size and were forced to stop as the mass of people got in their way. Harry could easily keep track of where most of them were just from the way the crowd reacted.

Keeping his eyes open, Harry allowed himself to dally for a short while. A couple of the guards left, following an imagined sighting or just giving it up as a lost cause. When there were just a few groups left he slipped down another alley and was quickly out of sight. Getting back home after that was more than easy.

Ron and Hermione had already got back and were busy packing.

“Oh crap, I forgot about that!” Harry sighed as he walked inside. Hermione just raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“Oh Harry! Thank god you’re back!” Ron let out a deep sigh. “Hermione keeps telling me I need to bring two pair of trousers. _Two_!”

“Honestly, Ron,” Hermione frowned. “It’s not that big a deal. We don’t know how long we’re going to be gone.”

“But it’s trousers, Hermione? When am I ever going to use more than the ones I’m wearing?”

“When you wash them!”

“I don’t need to wash my trousers. We’re not dressing up as nobles!”

Hermione stepped closer to him and slapped her hand against the worn fabric. A cloud of dust billowed up and settled slowly around her hand.

Harry grimaced and shook his head. As much as he wanted to take Ron’s side, this time there wasn’t any reasonable way to do so.

“No, Harry..!” Ron moaned. “Not you too! Are you telling me..!”

“Harry’s sensible.. well, sensible enough to realise you can’t walk around in clothes that are more dust than fabric, Ron. And speaking of which, you better make sure to wash up before tomorrow. I’m not having us travelling looking like pigs.”

“But Hermione…!”

Accompanied by Ron’s whine, Harry told Hermione he’d take his bath first. She sent him away with a nod. “I’ll have a look and see what you should bring in the meanwhile.”

As the door closed behind him, Harry felt a deep sigh leave him. He suddenly felt exhausted from everything that happened over the last couple of days. Riddle, sudden freedom, fighting with Ginny, Riddle, making up with Ginny, playing a prank on Malfoy… Riddle...

He reached out and turned the tap, letting water pour into their bathtub and then he sunk down with his back against the door. The loud clanking as gears came alive somewhere below the building was soothing.

Harry let his head fall back against the door and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure he was ready for this. They only had tonight, because tomorrow they would jump on a train and leave. They would see, maybe not the world, but so much more of the Isles. They had talked about it for so long, had stared themselves almost blind at that painting of the cliffs of Dover and wondered how it was possible for something like that to actually exist in the world. Harry had wanted to run his hand along the cliff-side to see if his hand came away white and chalky.

Was this… he wasn’t sure how he had imagined his life would be, there never had been time to look further than the next job. If he thought about it, it probably would have been similar to what Ginny imagined. They would get together, have children and manage to afford a small apartment somewhere. Maybe he’d help out at the twins after paying off the debts, and maybe not. But it was certain to be a normal, unimpressive job. Something that would be incredible dull, but he’d be satisfied doing it and doting on his family. Give them the love he never received as a child.

Right?

The water was splashing in the tub, filled high enough that it threatened to overflow and Harry hurried up to turn the tap off, busying himself for a moment with undressing and getting in. Well inside he just let himself sink down into the slightly too cold water.

He would still be doing that, right? Just because they went on this mission and got a lot of money, it didn’t mean his future had to change.

But Ginny had certainly thought so. She’d taken one look at Riddle and had known that the dream of Harry and her was nothing more than that. And Harry knew he was lying to himself. He knew things would never be the same after they left. He didn’t think he could ever go back to Tutshill and be satisfied with staying there for the rest of his life. There was the cliffs of Dover, and so much more to be seen.

Washing himself with a soft cloth, Harry was overcome with a sudden urge to go and to see the world. All these things he had pushed away and promised himself he would see later, once there was time, and money and the debt was paid, they were all so close now. The only thing standing in his way was a simple theft and he’d go there accompanied by his best friends and an attractive lord.

A wide smile broke free. He honestly couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the bar for prank of a lifetime has now been set extremely low...  
> But at least you got to ride the rollercoaster of emotions. And that's what we're all here for, right? No?


	7. Conflict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter took forever to write. I first wrote two thirds, didn't like it and changed some, adding a bit more and then realised that the feel and the flow wasn't what I wanted at all so I re-wrote it again... Third time's the charm, right?

The next morning brought with it a chill in the air as Harry and his friends headed down to the train station. The train had already pulled up to the station, Riddle’s familiar dark red carriage attached behind the locomotive.

“Well then.” Harry said, feeling a sliver or trepidation and something he didn’t want to consider. “I guess this is it.”

Next to him, Ron grinned, but he too looked worried. Hermione was standing slightly behind them, worriedly muttering under her breath and rustling through her pack.

“Lockpick, disguises, healing salve...”

“Take it easy, ‘mione.” Ron said, gently shaking his head. “We’re gonna be fine. Even if we forgot everything it doesn’t matter, we can just buy it.”

Hermione sent him an annoyed glare and ran a hand through her already disordered hair. “Money can’t get you everything, Ronald. How am I supposed to just buy a tool that works as well as these?” She quickly flashed her set of lock-picks at them, before pocketing them just as swiftly.

Ron opened his mouth to argue, but Harry shook his head. While he knew that Ron really just wanted to be helpful and ease her mind, arguing with Hermione about her lock-picks was rather suicidal. Harry couldn’t tell you how many times she had gone on about them, and how pleased she was with their production and how they laid in her hand. Even if they could afford better ones now, Harry doubted she would be willing to part with them.

Instead the men stood silently for a moment as Hermione continued to double-check. She was just about to start in on Ron’s pack as well when a loud whistle broke through the air.

“That’s it,” Harry said, swirling toward the train. “We gotta go!”

“Oh,” Hermione shook her head even as she followed her friends toward the front, “I wish we’d had a moment longer just to make sure. Half an, no, an hour would have been sufficient!”

“It’s gonna be fine!” Ron said again as they boarded the train, spilling up on the small landing outside the carriage. The whistle blew again, twice in succession and there was a slight jerk as the train took off. “Either way, it’s too late now!”

Hermione punched him on the arm. So when Harry knocked the door and it was opened by Barty, it was to Ron pouting and rubbing his arm gently.

Barty looked rather pale, but quickly regained his colour as he caught sight of them. “Oh good, you made it!” He exclaimed. “Cutting it close, ey?”

“Don’t worry,” Harry assured him, “When you got Hermione with you there’s no way you’ll be late.”

“Still...” Barty moved out of the way and gestured them inside.

The carriage was much the same as it had been the other night, only now illuminated by the light of early morning streaming through the windows. Riddle was sat at the table, a bundle of documents in front of him. Harry’s breath hitched slightly at the sight and the way the light gleamed in Riddle’s hair. He was dressed rather casually and upon their entering he relaxed, leaning back in the seat in a way that made Harry want to crawl into his lap. And then he smiled.

Harry could feel the colour rising in his cheeks and he cursed Riddle for being too attractive. It wasn’t fair that a damn lord should look like that and it wasn’t fair that it made Harry regret his decision – and at the time – solemn promise to Ginny that nothing else would happen between the two of them. He shifted, taking his backpack off to have an excuse to look away.

Of course, looking away didn’t stop his ears from working or Riddle from laughing gently. He sounded happy and pleased. Harry couldn’t stop himself from glancing upwards, taking in the sight. And it was a sight. Harry wasn’t sure he’d seen genuine happiness on Riddle’s face before, but it suited him.

“Welcome,” Riddle finally said, when they had all entered and Barty closed the door behind them. “I see you are right on time.”

“Well,” Ron chimed up, “We’d be fools to loose out on all that money, right?”

“Indeed. It would have been quite a pity for all of us. I was rather looking forward to some company for this trip. We have a ways to go.”

Harry blushed again, or kept blushing, he wasn’t sure if he had ever stopped, and wondered if he was the only one who kept reading into Riddle’s words. He knew what kind of company Riddle kept on this train, what he did when he was bored… Being in that same room made him remember it quite vividly.

“Speaking of which,” Hermione said, “you haven’t told us where we’re going yet.”

Riddle inclined his head. “Ah, I believe you are correct. We’re going to the continent. I imagine that might be quite exciting for you.” He paused to take in their reactions. For a moment, Harry wasn’t confused about his emotions when around Riddle, instead what he felt was pure elation. Going to the continent had been almost more than he had ever dreamed off, further than anyone he knew had gone. It was completely different from the isles, and full of mysteries and unexplored wonders. He’d even heard that if you went further into the continent you might catch a glimpse of terrific beasts that were larger than a building. He didn’t even try to stop the wide grin that spread across his face.

Harry glanced over at his friends, smile feeling even wider as he took in their awestruck expressions.

“...the...the continent?” Hermione blinked at Riddle, trying to take it in. “We’re going to the continent?!”

“Of course, miss Granger.” Riddle seemed pleased at their reactions. “So we have quite a journey in front of us… As such, I’ve take the liberty of arranging compartments on the train for you and Mr Weasley. I’m afraid there’s not enough bedding for us all to rest comfortably here. I was thinking I’d let you get settled in, and we can go over the details once you’re ready.”

“Oh, yes, that’s…” Hermione paused and glanced over at Harry. “That’s probably best. Just… uhm, I couldn’t help but notice you specified me and Ron…”

Harry blinked, her cautious tone brining him back to reality from where he was imagining what it would be like to see a creature the size of a house flying over him. What was she saying?

Riddle smiled politely at her. “Yes? Please do go on, Miss Granger.”

“Ehm, that is… where’s Harry gonna sleep?”

Harry looked at her and then over to Riddle. That was quite a good question. Where was Harry going to sleep? The sneaking suspicion that Riddle had made a rather bold assumption made Harry frown.

It only deepened when Riddle said. “He’s welcome to share this carriage with me, of course.”

“Weeeell,” Harry grit out, “as nice an offer as that is, I’d rather not.”

For the first time that morning, Riddle’s pleased expression disappeared, if only for a second. Then he was back to smiling politely. “No? I can assure you it won’t be any bother to me. In fact, I’d appreciate the company.”

Harry shrugged, rather annoyed. Just because they had done certain things together, it didn’t give Riddle the right to assume anything. What happened in the past had been Harry’s weakness, succumbing to his base instincts. And now that he had, he wouldn’t be doing that again. Especially not in these close quarters. They would practically be living together.

“Still no. I’m sure there’s more room on the train.”

Riddle was so still, that Harry was rather certain he was furious. Which should scare him, but well, Harry knew two things and that was that Riddle couldn’t hurt him, because he needed him. And that his reaction reminded Harry of Draco Malfoy when they were kids and he had been denied something. What happened after that calm was a stormy tantrum. Harry refused to feel cowed by that.

Seconds passed in silence, Riddle staring resolutely at Harry who stared right back. He wasn’t going to budge on this.

“Uh, Harry, mate...” Ron tugged him gently on the sleeve, “Should we, eh...”

The sound had Riddle blinking and then looking away. The lord took a deep breath before standing up, looking perfectly polite again.

“That’s too bad, Harry. We can certainly ask the conductor if there is any available compartments, thought I believe he told me they were almost fully booked.” He shrugged, a fluid and almost careless motion. “But there’s no harm in checking, is there? If you would follow me.”

Riddle walked past them and out of the carriage with long strides. Harry shared a glance with Hermione and Ron who shrugged and then followed out. As Harry moved to join them Barty stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“I.. I don’t know what kinda magic you got, but be careful kiddo.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah, I didn’t think that would be it either.”

Rushing to catch up with the rest of the group, Harry made his way out of the carriage and into the next. It turned out to be where the restaurant was, with wooden tables covered with with cloth spread around the car. To the left was a bar, well-polished dark wood fronting a polite bartender and rows upon rows of bottles. They looked expensive to Harry’s eye.

There was a couple of people already having their breakfast and they looked up at Harry with disdain. He frowned back at them, but couldn’t be bothered with their pettiness. At least no one was actively making a fuss about this dishevelled person rushing through and interrupting their breakfast.

It wasn’t until the middle of the next car that Harry caught up, Riddle leading the way with a stride that seemed impossible to match. Of course, the lord was so much taller than any of them that Harry figured he might just have thought this was a normal speed. Well, he might have believed that if this had been anyone but Riddle. The man was much too calculated to be doing this by mistake.

In the next carriage, Riddle stopped abruptly and gestured to a door. “Here we are, then. Your compartment.”

The trio peered inside, curious. Like the rest of the train, the compartment was luxurious. There was a wide bed, a small seating area with two armchairs and a small table, backed by a bookcase inset into the wall. The entire interior was overlaid with a pale wood with occasional details that shimmered like pearls. To the right there was a closed door.

“I’m afraid it might be a bit small, but unfortunately it’s hard to get anything more roomy on a train. Dimensional magic can be rather unstable on a moving environment, so most trains opt out of using it.”

“Small?” Harry blinked and took a step inside, only to stumble as Ron followed suit, throwing himself inside and ripping the door open. Harry caught sight of what seemed to be an equally luxurious bathroom before a warm hand grabbed him around the arm and steadying him.

“There you are...” Riddle said, smiling at him and Harry suddenly found that the revelation of an entire bathroom felt rather irrelevant.

“Uh, yeah, thanks...” Harry took a step back and pulled out of the grip. Riddle’s arm following for a second before he let go.

“Well, I’ll leave you to get settled in and have a word with the conductor. Perhaps they have an available compartment.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Hold on, I’ll come with you.”

Hermione stared at him, an eyebrow raised. Harry shrugged and shook his head. Barty’s warning was still clear, and it wouldn’t surprise him if Riddle bribed the conductor to tell them the train was full, just to get his way. So Harry would go with him, and make sure nothing happened.

“Will you? What a delight.” Riddle smiled again, but this time it felt fake. It only made Harry feel more certain that he had made the right choice. “Well then, Harry, let’s not dawdle.”

Slipping his pack off, Harry exited the room after sharing a nod with Hermione. “I’ll see you soon!” Hermione still didn’t seem to be agreeing, but she let him go without saying a word.

Riddle led him back up the train until they were in the beginning of the third car. Like the one they had just exited this one was nothing more than a narrow corridor, windows to the right and doors on the left. Riddle knocked at the one in the front, which Harry noticed was placed closer to the end of the carriage, seeming almost crammed in.

It didn’t take more than a moment before the door opened and the conductor, a slim and perfectly groomed man, peered out at them. Upon catching sight of Riddle the man bowed. “My Lord,” he said, “How can I be of service?”

Riddle smiled, once again looking nothing but polite. “It seems I made a mistake in the booking of the compartment, and we might be in need of another.” The conductor looked about to reply, but Riddle carried on without stopping. “However I remember you telling me that there wasn’t any free ones. This is still the case, yes?”

The conductor, opened his mouth and then glanced at Riddle’s face. He closed it again and glanced over at Harry before looking back at Riddle. To Harry, that was odd. He looked up at Riddle, trying to catch any sign of him threatening the poor man, but his face could have been carved out of marble.

“Ah, of.. that is, no, my Lord, I’m afraid there’s no open compartments at the moment. We do have some seats at the back of the train...” He trailed off, looking pale, “but they’re really no good for a longer journey!”

“Thank you, Adam.” Riddle said and smiled at him again.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all, sir. Please don’t hesitate to find me if there is anything I can do for you.”

“Hold on!” Harry butted in when it seemed the conductor was about to close the door. “Are you sure.. actually, you’re not letting Riddle threaten you, are you?” He sent a glare at Riddle who met his eyes with amusement.

Adam flinched back. “T-threatened? Of-of course no, my Lord would never need to stoop to such an action.” His voice was quivering, just slightly. Harry wondered what he might have missed.

“I think we both know that’s not true. But I wouldn’t let him do anything to you, in any case. So if there are available space, you can tell me.” Harry sent him his nicest grin.

The conductor still seemed frazzled, but shook it off. “Of course, sir, I wouldn’t lie to you. All compartments are taken, and the only availability are, like I said, seats in the back of the train. They would be alright, I suppose, for a quick journey, but not for going further.” This time, his voice was firm.

Harry still didn’t believe him. “Well, I don’t mind a seat. I’m sure I’ve slept in worse conditions.”

“You’re not sleeping in a chair, Harry.” Riddle said with a voice that allowed no disagreement.

“I don’t think you can stop me.” Harry snapped back. He was getting rather tired of Riddle trying to make his decisions for him. So fine, whether Riddle had threatened this man to say there were no empty compartments, or if he was simply telling the truth, it didn’t matter to Harry. But he would be damned if he let Riddle dictate where he could sleep.

“Oh, can’t I?” The voice was a hiss. “I don’t know if you remember, but I don’t believe you’ve completed the job for me. And I might have promised that I would take care of all necessities of the job, but I don’t believe this is an expense I’d be willing to pay for. Not when there’s plenty of space available for you in my carriage.”

“Piss off!” Harry shouted, to the horror of the conductor. “Hey, you!” He turned toward Adam. “How much is a seat?”

“T-to where you’re going?” He swallowed and looked like he would much rather be inside his room with the door firmly shut. “I, uh, I believe that would be e-eight galleons.”

Harry gaped at him. “Eight?!”

“It’s… it’s quite a journey, sir.”

“That’s ridiculous? If it costs that much just to sit down, how bloody much is a compartment, then?” The conductor began to answer, but Harry cut him off. “You know what, nevermind. I don’t want to know. Here,” he grabbed the pouch fastened inside his coat. “It’s a lot, but I think I still have that much.”

“Harry.” Riddle said, voice dark. When Harry didn’t stop he reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling it away. “I said you’re not sleeping in a chair.” Harry’s response was just to glare right back at him.

Fury shifted through the lord’s eyes and Harry suddenly found himself pushed back against the wall, the hand still holding his money-pouch shoved roughly above his head.

“Don’t think for even a second that I can’t make you, Harry.” Riddle hissed, face uncomfortably close. “If I wanted to I could have you locked in my carriage for the rest of the trip.”

“Then you can forget about getting my help!” Harry hissed back. “I have no reason to do so, because, you remember, we haven’t got our payment yet. So I don’t have to to shit for you.”

Riddle let out an actual hiss. “Why do you have to be so difficult?!”

“Maybe because you’re being a pompous arsehole!” Harry yelled, careless of how loud his voice may be. At this point the conductor actually took a couple of steps back, safely ensconcing himself in his room, even if the still open door did nothing to conceal him.

Riddle twitched with fury, grip on Harry’s arm tightening. “What have I possibly done to earn your scorn?” He asked, voice still a hiss. “I gave you back your contract as a show of good faith, agreed to your terms and I _didn’t_ rend your little friend asunder for her blatant discourtesy. So tell me, Harry, what must I do to earn your trust?”

Harry stared at him and then blinked. Then blinked again. “Trust? Please, let’s not kid ourselves. You’re not after my _trust_.” He snorted.

“Perhaps that’s not the only thing I seek,” Riddle closed the remaining distance, coming chest to chest with Harry. “But I do believe I’ve made my intentions clear from the very start. And you’ve been more than receptive, up to this point.” The hand holding Harry’s wrist let go, running down the length of his arm and cupping his chin. “So don’t try and tell me you take offence now.”

“What,” Harry fought the pleasurable shivers that ran down his spine at the action and shook his head to dislodge the hand. “I didn’t realise ‘helping you out’ was the same as me agreeing to become your little concubine. If I’d realised that it was a contract, I definitively wouldn’t have let you touch me.”

R iddle sneered at him. “Oh, but you would have. At that moment I could have bought your soul and you would have agreed, as long as it meant me getting you off. You can’t try to deny how soft and pliant you were underneath my hands, how you were barely able to form words.”

Blushing a bright red, Harry felt humiliated and yet he couldn’t help but remember. “Well I’m saying  _no_ now!  And as far as I remember, getting me on my back wasn’t part of the agreement.”

T he lord froze and for a moment Harry was frightened.  Riddle had been careful so far, not to do anything unscrupulous, but the twins advice to be careful didn’t come out of nothing.  Riddle was a dangerous character, only up until this point Harry had somehow managed to forget that.

T ime stretched and neither of them moved, nor made a sound. Then Riddle shook his head and he backed away, taking a deep breath and regaining his composure.

“Despite what you might think of me, I’m not interested in forcing you.” Riddle’s face was a blank mask. “Do go ahead and spend the rest of the journey in a cramped chair.” He turned to leave and then paused, looking back at Harry who was still standing against the wall. “Please let miss Granger know that we can discuss the details for the rest of this journey over lunch. I’ll send Bartemius when it’s time.”

T hen he left, leaving Harry staring after him. When the door to the carriage closed behind Riddle, Harry ran a shaking hand through his hair. That was… he wasn’t sure how he had expected things to go, but this wasn’t it.  Now that Riddle had effectively returned his invite to sleep in his carriage Harry wasn’t sure he had made the right decision. Certainly, he had been angry and wanted to make his own choice, but even that had taken the option away from him.

S weeping his eyes across the hallway, Harry found them locked with Adam. The conductor stood frozen a couple of steps inside his room and oh, god, had he heard the entire thing?  The eye-contact seemed to wake Adam from his stupor and he plastered a professional smile across his lips. 

“So, uh, sir, would you still be interested in that seat?”

H arry couldn’t handle that. He shook his head wildly and turned on his heel, intent on nothing but getting away. Ron and Hermione would certainly let him hide in their compartment for a little while and he could make up his mind then.

Of course, they would definitively let him stay there, only when he came back the door was locked and when Harry stopped to listen he could hear vague sounds coming from inside. And yeah, there was only one thing they could be doing.

Harry jerked back from the door swiftly. There was nothing in the world which would possess him to knock right then, no matter how  upset he were.  Instead he continued further down the train, as the only other option was to head forwards, and that meant Riddle. Harry grimaced.  Down the train it was.

Going further back marked a distinct difference from the first-class cars. Gone was the fancy wooden panelling, the soft light cast by shaded lamps and, Harry noticed, the carefully woven rugs that made every step soft and silent. Instead there was the harsh light in the ceiling, lightening the path between two rows of seats, and no light but the one from the window over the seats. It cast the area into sharp contrast and the bare walls didn’t help make it any better. In a word, the back of the train felt gloomy.

The conductor had clearly been downplaying the number of seats available, because Harry only saw a handful that were actually taken. The rest stood empty. It wasn’t actually any wonder, he figured, because the tickets were clearly too expensive for the common worker to afford and he doubted the rich would deign to stay back here. Even if they couldn’t quite afford it, those who wanted to seem affluent wouldn’t dare to be spotted seated back here.

Continuing to the back of the carriage Harry spotted another bar. Of course, this wasn’t anything like the restaurant in the front. The wood of the bar was darker and looked stained and the selection was clearly narrowed down. The bartender stood slouched over, giving Harry almost a glare as he came over to see if, perhaps, there was some sort of alcohol that could help his mood. He didn’t really think so, had in fact never been much of a drinker, but it felt to Harry like a good day to make the attempt.

Reaching the bar – which Harry realised didn’t have any chairs, either – he attempted a smile. It probably came out as a grimace, but he didn’t suppose it mattered. The bartender grunted at him.

“What’s good?” Harry asked, regretting it immediately as the man narrowed his eyes at him. “Fine, what do you have?”

“Ale. Stout. Malt.”

“Right.” Harry wasn’t a big fan of ale, after having been forced to drink it on the job with a merchant who was _way_ too fond of it. The liquid had sat heavily in his stomach and he felt like he could taste it for days afterwards. “Anything else?”

This was met with a sneer. “Use yer eyes, boy.”

Any other time, Harry would have turned around and left. But right now there was nowhere else to go and nothing to do. Unless he climbed up the roof. He paused. That was actually an idea. The roof would let him wallow in his own annoyance until he felt he was done and he doubted anyone would come bother him there.

“Nevermind then.” Harry shot back and headed off toward the door at the back. As this was the last carriage it was the first time Harry really could see the world passing by at a frightening speed. This wasn’t anything like running on top of a train that had just pulled out of the station, if he tried to climb up to the roof right now it seemed likely that he would fall off just as quickly, blown by the strong wind that was already ruffling his hair and making it even messier than usual. “Of course not.”

It really seemed like life had decided to be against him. Couldn’t even find a proper place to sulk. At this point he couldn’t even go back inside, or risk the bartender mocking him. So there was only one thing to do.

Harry settled down beside the door, leaning his head against the metal wall. It was cold, and the motion of the train made it very uncomfortable. This had been an awful start to what was supposed to be an incredible adventure. Harry tried to summon the excitement he had felt when Riddle said they would be going to the continent, but all that made him think of was Riddle. The stupidly attractive git. He could have been comfortable right now, possibly felt even better than comfortable, with Riddle giving him his undivided attention. So why was he sitting on the rather cold floor and staring as the world passed by?

As most things, he figured it was his own stupidity. It hadn’t been a surprise that Riddle was interested in continuing whatever was going on between them, any fool would have noticed it. So why would it have been a surprise that Riddle wanted him to share his bed?

The short answer was, it wasn’t. Or at least it shouldn’t have been. But somewhere on the way, Harry had decided that he wouldn’t have it. And his pride had to go and get in the way of things. Pride and, if Harry was honest, a little bit of guilt. Despite his talk with Ginny he couldn’t help but feel bad for they way things had gone. For whatever imaginary future they were supposed to have together.

It was ridiculous, because it wasn’t even as if he imagined this thing with Riddle would last any longer than the job. Harry would steal whatever it was that needed stealing and then Riddle would pay them and wave goodbye. Harry wasn’t foolish enough to believe that the lord was interested in anything more than a fling to waste the time. Either way, Harry wasn’t here for that. What would it even look like?

Harry scrunched his face up in an attempt to imagine it, but any clear vision eluded him. He was hard pressed to imagine anything outside of the bedroom and Riddle gazing at him, mapping his skin with long fingers and taking in every reaction. Harry shivered.

What was wrong with him that he couldn’t even keep his mind out of the gutter for even five minutes. Harry sighed, letting his head fall back and bang into the wall. It stung, but at least it got his mind off things.

  
  


Harry stayed out in the cold and the wind for as long as he could manage. But eventually the chill and sheer boredom forced him to make his way back inside, pointedly looking nowhere near the bartender as he got back inside. Come to think of it, Harry wasn’t sure why he had forced himself to stay in there. The bartender didn’t know he had gone out to try and crawl up on the roof, for all he cared Harry just wanted some air. Flexing his fingers to bring heat back into them, Harry mentally shook his head at his own stupidity. Had that been pride getting in the way again? He had never quite considered himself a prideful person, but in light of recent events that might be something he should re-evaluate.

He would do that later. Probably. Right now he was more concerned with getting warm again, and maybe getting some food. The way his stomach growled indicated that he had managed to spend at least an hour outside, which ought to have given Ron and Hermione plenty of time to finish up and get rid off all evidence of what they had been doing. Because Harry didn’t need to see that.

Everything was silent when Harry got back to the compartment and he tentatively knocked on the door, waiting for Ron to fling the door open before going inside.

“Harry! Where’ve you been, mate?!” Ron exclaimed, looking slightly frazzled. “Come on, we better find ‘mione, she’s looking for you!”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Why would she be looking for me?”

Ron grabbed his arm, pushing him back out of the room and then heading up the train. “Because Riddle’s promised to tell us more about this actual job an’ she figured you’d better be there.” When Harry didn’t immediately follow Ron sent him a wide-eyed look. “Come on, what are you doing?! Riddle promised us lunch and ‘mione told me I can’t have any until you’re found. Now you’re found, so _come on!_ ”

“Uh, no, I’d… I’d rather stay behind. You guys go. You can fill me in later.”

“Whaaaat?!” Shaking his head, Ron stared at him.

“I don’t want to have lunch, Ron. So you go without me.” Harry was trying to keep a straight face, but he was pretty sure Ron knew something was up. Even if he hopefully didn’t know what.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna cut it. She’ll have my head if I come back without you, so fine if you don’t wanna have lunch but you gotta come with me and tell her yourself.” When Harry started to shake his head, Ron took a couple of quick steps toward him and grabbed his wrist firmly. “Come on.” He gave a slight pull.

Harry sighed but obediently took a couple of steps forward. “Look, I really don’t wanna see Riddle right now...”

Glancing behind him, Ron looked like he’d just had a realisation. “Lovers’ spat, huh?”

“Oh come on! We’re not lovers,” Harry made a face, “and thus we cannot have a ‘spat’.”

“Suuure...” Harry could hear the grin in his voice. “Either way, you won’t have to meet him, ‘mione told me she’d be in the restaurant area and Riddle should be hidden away in his carriage. So there’s no problem.”

Just the increased risk of running into Riddle was a problem in Harry’s book, but by this point Ron had already dragged him through another car and it was easier to just follow along, rather than trying to argue his point. He would just go there, quickly explain to Hermione that she could, as usual, mastermind the whole thing and then he’d be out of there and back in the compartment. Safe and sound, no problem.

For a moment, it even seemed like it would work. Hermione was waiting in the restaurant, tapping her foot impatiently as she scanned the crowd. It was now a significantly larger group of people in there, enjoying their lunch and giving them all scornful looks for interrupting.

“Hermione,” Harry said as soon as they reached her, cutting off whatever lecture she was going to give him for running off. “I’m not gonna be joining this little lunch-party so you just let me know whatever important details you’ve found out afterwards, OK?”

“What? Harry,” quick as a snake, Hermione reached out and snatched Harry’s arm as he attempted to turn and leave. “that’s nonsense. You’re the one who’s actually going to be doing this.”

“Well, you’re better than me at the details. You just tell me the plan and I’ll go with it, piece of cake.”

“No, it’s not. What’s going on?”

Harry pulled gently, checking if there was any give in her grip. There wasn’t.

“They’ve had a little lovers’ spat.” Ron smirked.

“We have _not_.”

“I must admit Mr Weasley isn’t completely wrong.” Riddle cut in, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. Or possibly just from the now open door. “And while I wouldn’t want to interfere with how you’re handling it, I do believe you should join us for this meeting. I’d rather not have to repeat myself.” He paused and took in their expression. Harry wasn’t sure what his face was showing, but Ron looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. “Shall we?”

At Riddle’s gesture to head in, Harry grumpily conceded defeat, if only for the moment. There would, at the very least, be food during this meeting. So he would join, sit quietly and eat and then sneak away as soon as possible. The less time spent in Riddle’s presence the better.

The table in Riddle’s carriage had been carefully set, with a white tablecloth, delicate white china and glasses that looked thinner than physically possible. In the middle stood two covered dishes as well as a bottle of wine.

“Please,” Riddle said, “have a seat. We’ll start with lunch, shall we, and get to the details after.”

“Ron,” Harry pulled his friend close and whispered, “sit with me, please?”, before sliding in to the window seat. Ron blinked at him and started walking over, but before he had the chance to sit down Hermione gave a slight tug on his arm and pulled him to the other side of the table. Harry didn’t have time to do more than to give Ron a desperate look before Riddle slid in next to him, giving a polite smile.

Harry twitched his lip in something that might have pretended to be a smile in return. He tried to gauge Riddle’s mood, but that polite expression was so firmly etched that it was impossible to tell.

“Ah, there we are then.” He gestured to Barty, who came over and removed the dish covers. “Please, help yourselves. I would ask Bartemius to serve you, only I know his strength isn’t quite with fine dining, so I’m afraid we’ll have to make do.”

“Why, why would he serve us!?” Harry burst out. “How lazy could you possibly be to expect someone else to put food on your plate? What’s next, will you expect to be fed as well?”

Hermione paled at his sudden exclamation and even Ron, who was already halfway to filling his place, froze for a moment, a potato dropping from the serving spoon. Riddle just blinked gently at him.

“Sometimes,” Riddle stared at him and said slowly, “it’s alright to let yourself be spoiled.” A pause. “Although I do not believe I would enjoy being fed too much.” He smiled and then looked up at Ron. “Please, go ahead. I believe we’re all quite eager to get something to eat.”

Ron slowly completed the motion and poured the remaining potatoes on his plate and then put it back, almost equally slowly. The silence stretched as they all filled their plates with potatoes sprinkled with dill and a white fish that almost melted on Harry’s tongue as he took his first bite. The whole dish was completed by a delicate sauce that added a tart flavour. It was definitively the tastiest thing Harry had ever eaten.

“Oh, this is quite delicious.” Hermione said, breaking the silence. Next to her Ron nodded emphatically, tucking in with gusto. Hermione sent him a displeased look. “Please take his lack off manners as a compliment.”

Riddle had been glancing at Ron with disdain, but he only nodded politely to Hermione as she spoke. “Of course, think nothing off it. And you, Harry, how are you finding the fish?”

Harry swallowed his mouthful and answered without looking up from his plate. “Delicious.”

“I’m glad. The fares on the train can be rather limited, but one assumes they do their best with the limited functions.” He continued to eat, rather daintily in Harry’s opinion. Each bite seemed to be carefully created to get the prefect ratio of each kind of food and he seemed to chew it forever. Still, Harry couldn’t find any evidence of Riddle actually enjoying it, which made two of them. It annoyed him that this great meal came now, when he was too upset to savour it.

Harry shoved a piece of potato and swallowed without barely chewing. The sooner this lunch was done, the sooner they could get out of there. Of course, Riddle was taking forever with his meal and across from him Ron was filling up his plate again. Harry wondered who would be finished first, Ron eating his third portion or Riddle finally getting through his first.

Either way, they all seemed doomed to be eating in silence. Hermione made another attempt at small talk, but only Riddle replied and the conversation died down just as quickly. The bushy haired woman sent Harry the occasional foul look that he proceeded to ignore completely. He was quite aware that the tenseness of the situation probably was his fault, but he wasn’t sure what she wanted him to do about it. He wasn’t going to start chatting with Riddle and he doubted Riddle was the kind of man to try and ease an awkward situation. Instead he probably relished the fact that other people were uncomfortable.

After what felt like an eternity, the last part which Harry had spent staring at Ron as he scraped his plate clean, the lunch finally ended. Riddle gestured to Barty again and the man went outside, only to return with a young man dressed in a waiters outfit. He swiftly picked up their plates and disappeared without a sound.

“Now then,” Riddle said, “time to get back to business. Would you like to hear the plan?”

Hermione shone up, excitement visible in her eyes. Riddle actually smiled at that, letting out a small noise that might have been a chuckle. It made Harry frown.

Without waiting for any additional confirmation from the rest of them, Riddle got up and opened a locked hatch built into the wall, placed a little higher than waist height. It looked rather small to Harry, but Riddle reached inside and then reached inside further, until his upper body was almost completely inside. They could hear Riddle rummaging around before he pulled back, bringing with him a large box.

“That,” Ron said, “Should not have fit in there.”

The lord smirked, using one hand to smooth his hair which Harry noticed was now slightly dishevelled. It wasn’t a bad look. “Magic is useful for many things.” He said simply, and upon seeing Ron’s eyes widen added. “You can have a look, if you’d like.”

Ron had never been one to hesitate so he bounced up, running over and jutting his head straight inside. Harry wanted to join him, but when he glanced at Riddle – currently depositing the box on the table – he was met with keen eyes and a slight nod. As if he knew Harry wanted to have a look and he was oh so graciously urging him on.

For some reason this made him mad all over again. Once again, Riddle assumed to know what Harry wanted, acting like he was some sort of gracious host for providing it. Well, he could stuff it.

Breaking eye-contact, Harry leaned back in his seat. He kept an eye on Riddle discreetly, but the man didn’t react to his dismissal. Neither in anger nor in with that mocking amusement that showed ever so often. Fine.

Harry pointedly looked away from Riddle, looking instead at his friend. Ron apparently wasn’t satisfied with just looking inside, his legs waving as he used the force to heave himself up and into the cupboard completely.

“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed in outrage and after a second his head poked back out, body fully emerged.

“Yeah, ‘mione?” He said. “Man, this is awesome!”

“Ron, get out of there right now!” Hermione rushed over, reaching in and grabbing Ron by the shoulder to pull him out. “I’m sorry, I can’t believe he would just...” she said over her shoulder to Riddle.

“It’s a simple expansion charm, but I have discovered it can be rather useful.” Riddle nodded. “And I don’t believe there’s anything breakable in there, so no harm done. I’m sure Mr Weasley was just curious.”

“Still, this is just… Ron, get out of there!” Hermione pulled harder, having successfully gotten most of his chest out.

“’mione, take it easy, let me just…!” Ron’s eyes widened as she pulled enough for him to overbalance and fall out onto the floor and on top of Hermione. “Argh!”

Harry winced. It wasn’t a very long fall, but taking a dive head first was never great. Ron clearly wasn’t injured however, because he was on his feet in a second, reaching down to help Hermione up as well.

“I have to say,” Riddle spoke quietly and suddenly next to Harry, “I didn’t expect miss Granger to get involved in a scene like that.”

Harry flinched, shifting on his seat to place himself further away. “Shows what you know.”

Riddle sighed as Ron fuzzed over Hermione and she looked him over for injuries in a rather calmer manner, the first angry shout eased by his care. “You’re right,” he said, “I don’t know a lot about you, or your friends. So you must understand I didn’t mean to upset you with my intended sleeping arrangements.”

“Must I?” Harry snipped, refusing to fall for Riddle’s obvious attempts of making himself seem reasonable. Harry was well aware that the lord could use reason, but that didn’t mean Harry had to forgive him.

Riddle raised an eyebrow and sighed again. “I don’t know what you’re expecting, Harry. I cannot do anything about the train being fully booked.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“No, you made that quite clear already, didn’t you...” Riddle began, but cut off as Ron and Hermione joined them at the table.

Hermione frowned at them. “Sorry, did we interrupt? We can go wait in the restaurant if you’d...”

“Don’t worry, miss Granger.” Riddle interjected. “We are quite finished. Let’s go over the plan, shall we?”

A frown creased her forehead, but Hermione nodded and stayed where she was.

“Excellent. Now then,” the lord opened the box, taking out a map. “First things first. Have any of you heard of Nurmengard?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Harry, why must you make things so difficult?
> 
> FYI for those who are interested an estimated monthly salary for the common person is around 5 galleons in this world. So it might be understandable that Harry doesn't want to spend more than that on one train ride. And yes, this also means that the trio was paying Malfoy an absurd amount that they couldn't have possibly earned legally.


	8. Welcome to London

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you want an almost 10k chapter? Well, either way you got it.

“Nurmengard!” Hermione exclaimed, back in their compartment. She dragger her hands through her hair. “Nurmengard!”

Ron sighed and leaned back on the bed, feet dangling of the side. “Yes dear.”

“I... I’m not sure this is such a good idea.” The bushy haired woman was frowning. “We all knew it was going to be dangerous, of course, but this is a whole different thing. This is Grindewald’s fortress!”

Harry found it amusing that she was so upset, considering none of them had even known about the existence of this building until about an hour ago. And Grindewald… he had been defeated when they were children, his reign over while they were still too young to understand what it meant. He was a character from the history books, and had been busy with their own problems. Malfoy had been much more of a threat than this man running around the continent, so it hadn’t mattered much to them.

It still barely mattered to Harry. Grindewald was long since gone, Dumbledore having stripped him of his magic and locked him away safely. So whatever remained in the fortress would most likely be nothing but magical traps and if you were to believe Riddle, this wouldn’t affect Harry at all. In essence, this job would be simple. Go to Nurmengard, let everyone else wait outside while Harry made his merry way inside to locate the box. Whatever magic still remained wouldn’t react to his presence, so all he would need to do was to avoid the guards and maybe pick a lock or two. If he was really lucky he might even get to scale a wall. From Harry’s perspective it actually sounded pretty great.

The only thing he could have done without was to travel with Riddle. The lord hadn’t spoken to him any further, which suited Harry just fine. He didn’t need Riddle looking at him like he was something to be adored, didn’t need him to casually run his hand down Harry’s back and look pleased when Harry shivered. He didn’t need to find himself unable to focus on anything but Riddle.

Fuck. Harry bit his lips, forcing himself to get out of his head and _stop_ thinking about Riddle. Although now that he had, it was increasingly hard to stop. He wondered if it was possible to cast a spell on someone to drive them out of their minds. There probably was, but would it be possible to cast it on him?

“Harry!” Hermione suddenly turned to him. “What do you think?”

“Eh, what do I think..?”

Hermione frowned. “Weren’t you paying attention? Do you still want to do this?”

Harry blinked at her. “What? Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because we’ll be breaking into _Nurmengard_.”

“Well, I will be, at least. I reckon you’ll have to stay outside.”

“Even more so! Harry,” Hermione came over and leaned over the armchair Harry had claimed, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Harry, this is going to be dangerous. Much worse than we had thought.”

“Is it? I mean, is it really? An old building, locks, magical traps.. you can’t say we haven’t ever dealt with that before, ‘mione.”

She looked taken back. “Well, of course we have, but I don’t think you’re seeing the problem here!” At Harry’s blank stare she turned to Ron. “Explain it to him!”

“Uh.. ehm, to be honest, I don’t really get it either...” Ron said slowly, looking caught out. “I mean, it’s gonna be bigger, yeah… but you’ve seen Harry when he’s really into it, right? There’s a reason he’s always trying to break into places...”

“You guys are impossible!” Hermione took a step back, throwing her hands up. “Fine, so deadly traps and guards who are out to kills us doesn’t matter to you?! Don’t you think that if it was that easy, Riddle wouldn’t have just dealt with it himself?”

“He did say that the problem was the barrier, didn’t he?” Ron said and Harry nodded.

“Much as I don’t want to work for the guy,” Harry started, ignoring Hermione’s ‘aha!’, “it did seem like the issue was to get past the barriers. What was it he said? Nearly impossible to breach?”

“Well, fine, but Harry you’ll be going in alone!”

Harry sighed. “We knew that from the start. That’s what we agreed to.”

“It’s not what we agreed to!” Hermione said, outraged. “The contract was for all three of us!”

Sometimes, Harry felt like Hermione was misunderstanding things on purpose. “Of course it is, but we know he asked us because of this… ability that I have. So he didn’t need to say anything, it was already clear that you wouldn’t be able to follow.”

Hermione looked crestfallen. “I.. Harry, we can still say no! I don’t… I won’t let you endanger yourself just for the sake of some money.”

“It’s not just some money, Hermione...” Harry tried smiling. “It’s quite a significant amount, you know.”

“Oh, knock it off!” She slapped him lightly on the arm. “You know what I mean. It’s just not worth risking your life.”

Harry’s smile softened. “I’ll be very careful, I promise. I’ll sneak in and get out without anyone even noticing me, remember?”

Hermione sighed and took a seat on the arm of the chair. “Only if you’re sure. Remember, you can back out at anytime, me and Ron won’t ever blame you for that, right Ron?” The redhead sat up in the bed, looking hesitant until a glare from Hermione had him nodding enthusiastically. “So if you want to call it off, just tell us, alright?”

Harry smiled at them. “It’s a deal.”

In all fairness, Harry figured as he sunk back in the armchair, Hermione really was overreacting. If they could trust Riddle’s information, of course, but Harry figured that at this point they would have to. The man had no reason to lie to them about this, not if he wanted this box so badly. And the box made Harry really curious. Despite Riddle going over the plan with them – and they would be talking more about it once they were closer, there had been maps outlining the fortress and the forest around it, pages and pages of notes and yet more maps – he still refused to tell them just what it was he was after.

“It’s a box,” he had said, “rectangular, about half a metre in length and half that of width. Made of wood but lacquered with black and silver details. Should be fairly easy to spot.” Riddle had looked at them and stopped talking, and in the ensuing silence the three friends looked at each other, silently wondering who would ask the question. Harry had given his head a firm shake, and at that Ron sighed.

“So... what’s in it?” The redhead asked hesitantly. Hermione nodding encouragingly as he did so. Riddle gave him a blank stare. “Uh, you, eh, never said.”

“Nor do I see why that’s relevant.”

“It’s relevant because those of us who’ll be doing the actual thieving,” Harry cut in, staring pointedly away from Riddle as he did so, “need to know what to expect. So that we know how heavy it’ll be or if it’s easily breakable, or a million other things that you might want us to consider. Unless you want this treasure in pieces.”

Riddle’s eyes had narrowed. “It weights about the same as that tome,” he pointed to a large, leather-bound book on the shelf, “and it’s certainly not easy to break. Although I’d be delighted if you succeeded in doing so. If that was all you needed to know, I’d like to move on. The train will only take us this far, at which point I’ve arranged for horses...”

It was curious and it was strange. What could Riddle want so badly, yet he didn’t care, in fact, seemed to prefer broken? If all you needed was to destroy something, then that was easy enough to arrange. Harry had plenty of experience with breaking things, and it would be far easier to get back out without dragging a box around. If he managed to break it he might not even need to bring it out with him. Then all he needed to do was to go out and collect their reward. And his bonus, of course.

Harry wasn’t sure if Riddle had worn the locket during their meeting, and he was rather ashamed of that fact. Only a lousy thief didn’t pay attention to the valuables on people around him. But he would bet it was still hanging around Riddle’s neck. The lord couldn’t be so foolish as to place it in his pocket again, not after the last time. Harry smirked. If Riddle was sufficiently distracted, he might be able to nick it again. Just slide his hands down that chest, letting them travel across bare skin and mapping out every part of it…

“Harry,” Ron said, startling Harry out of his thoughts. “So what did you decide? Will you be crashing on our armchair? You seem quite comfy in it, I gotta say.”

Nodding quickly, Harry tried to fight down the blush. He was absolutely mortified by the path he had allowed his thoughts to take. “Y-yeah, if that’s okay? I mean if you guys need some space...”

Ron and Hermione shared a look and the bushy haired girl blushed as red as Ron’s hair. He, in turn, looked quite smug. “Don’t worry about it, mate. We can just kick you out in that case.”

“Ron!” Hermione shouted in outrage, face even redder.

“What? We’re young and in love! Harry gets it!”

Biting his lips to keep from laughing, Harry nodded. “Don’t worry ‘mione, I’ll give you guys all the privacy you need.”

“See, he gets it!”

“You guys are the worst!” Hermione yelled, but she was smiling too.

  
  


As it turned out, Harry didn’t need to sleep in a chair. It was only a few hours later that the train pulled in to London station and the conductor announced that it would be an extended stop for about two hours.

The moment the station had been announced Harry and Ron had found themselves plastered against the window, staring in awe at the city. So far the scenery had been pretty much the same as they were used to, smaller towns split by forests and fields. The first time they saw an automated harvester had been quite exiting, but it wasn’t anything particularly new, just cogs and steam in a different array. But London was quite different.

Gone were the small houses, instead replaced by buildings as tall as the Hellevia or higher. There was a variety of building materials, everything from a crazy looking wooden house to the normal bricks and even something that looked to be made completely out of metal. As they passed the last building they could hear the noise of gears creaking all the way into the train.

There was also a surprising lack of gears on the houses themselves, yet enough smoke poured through tall chimneys to make the sky look overcast in places. Harry imagined that this entire city lived like the rich did back home, using cogwheels and steam in other places to provide them with light and heat. He would have worried it would be a painfully silent existence if it wasn’t for the masses of people that seemed to crowd the streets.

Automatic carriages ran down the street, seemingly using magic to avoid hitting the pedestrians and in between them there were bikes, runners with rickshaws and these four-legged machines that towered over the rest, stepping over and between everything else to get ahead. More than once Harry saw a carriage driver lean out of their seat and yell, having had to break for dear life in order not to crash into a huge foot.

“What the hell is that?” Harry looked at Ron who just shook his head.

“It’s nuts, is what it is mate.”

“We gotta go out there.”

“Bet we could climb one of those long-legged things.” Ron gestured and then glanced over at Harry with a smirk. “Bet I could climb it faster than you.”

“Not on your life!” Harry laughed. “You’d fall before you made it even halfway!”

“Not on either of your lives!” Hermione cut in. “You’re not climbing one of those things!”

“But ‘mione…” Ron whined.

“A no is a no, Ronald!”

Harry nudged Ron. “It’s fine, we can come back later and do it.” he whispered, making Ron perk up. Then he turned to Hermione. “We can still go out there, right?”

“Oh...” She hesitated. “I don’t know it’s such a great idea… we wouldn’t want to get lost and miss the train...”

“Get lost? Have you met us?” The boys stared at her incredulously. “And besides, he said two hours, right? That’s plenty of time!”

The train pulled in to the platform, making the final decrease in speed with a whine, before it stopped with a clank. In the ensuing silence Ron and Harry stared at Hermione with pleading eyes and there was a thump as the doors to the train opened.

“Oh, come on… don’t give me that...” gnawing on her lower lip, Hermione stared out the window at the platform filled with people and the city beyond it. “Oh, fine!” The boys began to cheer. “But! We’re going to make sure Riddle is fine with it first.”

Harry frowned, but nodded meekly. Hermione had that look on her face that told him that she wouldn’t accept any arguments, and he wasn’t going to risk their first outing in London for this minor detail. After all, Riddle had no reason not to let them go out.

Taking a moment to grab anything they might need – in Harry’s case it consisted of making sure he had his money and his lockpicks – they then headed out and over to Riddle. The door to his carriage was slightly ajar and inside Harry could spot a skinny man standing in front of Riddle, foot tapping and hands wriggling. Barty was standing just inside the door, looking grim.

“Hey Barty,” Harry said, “What’s happening?”

The guard looked down and shook his head. “Nothing good. Just, eh, will you just wait here for a moment? He should be just about done.”

Upon hearing Barty’s voice, Riddle glanced over at them and gave a small sigh. “Right, I think I understand the situation. Let them know I’ll be over shortly. You may leave.”

The man bowed and hurried off, flinching as he caught sight of the trio in the doorway. “Who, wh---”

“It’s none of your business, Quirrell. Keep moving.” Barty sent him a glare that had him shutting up and squirrelling away, shuffling sideways out of the door to avoid bumping into anyone. Then he was off the train and disappeared into the crowd.

Inside, Riddle sighed and massaged his neck. “Always with these complications. You’d think they would be able to manage on their own for a week...” He let go and held out his hand, gesturing for them to come inside. “I’m sorry to say it, but I think we’ll need to stop here over night. There was some unexpected troubles.”

“What, really?” It might be troublesome for Riddle, but Harry’s eyes shone with excitement.

Riddle raised an eyebrow and then quirked a smile at him. “Indeed. So I’ll have to trouble you to collect your luggage and Bartemius will lead you to a hotel when you’re done. Oh, and Bartemius. Let the conductor know to disconnect our carriage.”

Barty nodded and didn’t waste any time on leaving.

“I’m afraid I must leave you for now, but if you need anything, just ask.”

“We wanted to have a look around town,” Hermione said suddenly, “that’s fine, right?”

“As long as you’re back in time tomorrow.” Riddle nodded and walked through the door, only to pause. “Oh, and you might want to let Bartemius show you around. There are parts of London that are less pleasant. Wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble.”

“Trouble?!” Harry exclaimed, but Riddle had already got off the train. “Who does he think we are? And ‘mione, what the heck? Why are you asking him for permission?!”

“That’s what we said we would do, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Yeah, well, we said to tell him, not to ask if it was okay! It’s none of his business what we do.” Harry replied, grumpily.

Hermione just gave him a flat stare. “He is still our employer. Maybe he wanted to leave as soon as he was done, only to find we’re nowhere to be found. And besides, it’s rude not to let him know our plans.”

“He can deal! He’s got magic, remember? To find you guys all he needs to do is snap his fingers, apparently. It’s not exactly an issue.”

“It’s still rude to not let him know. And I don’t know why you’re snapping at me for, you should be pleased, having the entire night to roam about!”

Harry stilled. She was right. He was pleased, actually, until the idea that Riddle had given his permission and then assigned them a nanny like they were three years old, had occurred to him. God, Riddle really was an ass. But Hermione asking was just encouraging that behaviour. Still, the lord had already left and now they could get exploring. “Yeah… Alright, let’s go grab our stuff!”

  
  


Collecting their things was a matter of minutes, and then they were off. Bartemius led them down a large street filled with people. Occasionally the guard had to physically push his way through the throng, the trio following hot on his heels in the space that was created.

“Damned games,” Barty muttered, loudly enough for Harry to hear. “Like this place isn’t bad enough on a regular day.”

“Games?” Harry asked, raising his voice to be heard above the crowd. “What games?”

Barty glanced over his shoulder and down at Harry. “Man, you’re lucky you come from such a small place, you know? Much better than this constant battle just to get down the street!” He paused to shove an elderly man out of his way, making the man stagger and forcing Harry to reach out and try to stabilise him so he wouldn’t fall over. The old man rewarded the thief with a foul glare. “Listen, it’s particularly bad during the games. Twice a month it is, and every time people get so _excited._ I don’t get it, it’s nothing new.”

Looking away from the old man, Harry focused his attention back at Barty. “Yeah, sure, but what are they?”

“What they are?” Barty stopped to turn and look at Harry properly. “You don’t know what they are?!” Behind them, Hermione and Ron stopped short, causing everyone else who had been following their path to stop as well. There was an audible grumble.

“That’s what I said.” Harry said, feeling slightly annoyed.

“Oh man, you’ve been living under a rock. The games… well, do you have polo? Do you know what it is?” He started moving down the street again.

“I think so?” Harry shrugged. He had a vague idea that it involved horses, and that people enjoyed betting on it. He had certainly had to fake a certain knowledge of the sport while pretending to be a wealthy merchant.

“Well, it’s like that. Only with mechanical horses. And in the air.”

Harry did a double-take. “In the what?!”

The guard smirked. “In the air. Like you know,” he pointed a finger upwards. “in the sky. They call it airpolo.”

Unable to help himself, Harry raised his eyes and followed the direction of the finger as if he was expecting to see the horses prancing about right above him. Of course, there was nothing but houses and clouds.

“How have I not heard of this before?” The thief muttered, more to himself than as an actual question.

“You’ve been livin’ in the middle of nowhere, haven’t you?” Barty chuckled.

Before they had seen London, Harry would have argued that Tutshill wasn’t that small. It had been large enough that they had spent years doing cons before anyone started to recognise them. But now they had seen London and Harry couldn’t help but agree that Tutshill really was nothing. And, he had to concede that their successful cons might in part have been because of the amount of businessmen travelling through, never stopping long enough to be familiar with their faces.

“Well, ‘nuff about that. Maybe we’ll catch a game after we’re done, huh?” Barty led them away from the crowd and up the slightly raised platform in front of an entrance. “Here’s the hotel then, our Lord’s favourite.”

The building didn’t look particularly out of the ordinary, just the same brick as the houses they had been passing by. A doorman opened the door for them, dressed in a plain blue uniform, and they made their way into the lobby. The inside was blissfully empty, no one there but the receptionist, a couple of footmen and some people seated in a small lounge just aside the door.

Harry wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t even particularly grand. Everything looked clean and neat, the colouring being mostly sombre and rather monochrome, but the room was pleasantly lit up, the soft glow giving it an almost homely touch.

The receptionist smiled at Barty as he led them up. “Ah, Mr. Crouch, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Her eyes flickered to the trio. “I gather you are in need of more rooms than usual?”

“Quite right, Hannah.” Barty smiled back at her. “Let’s go with the normal two and then an additional..” he glanced back at the thieves, “three...two?” Hermione nodded and he gave her a smile before turning back. “Right, two rooms seem to be enough.”

“One moment.” Hannah opened a ledger, flicking through it quickly. “Would you like the rooms to be on the same floor?”

“Ah. Yes, that’d probably be best. And it’s just for one night, so.”

She smiled. “Alright then, not a problem sir. I’ll get you your keys.”

There was a wall of keys hanging behind her and she deftly made a few passes in the air before reaching up and slipping two down from high up on the board. “Here you go. Please enjoy your stay.” The last was, Harry noted, actually directed to all of them.

“Thanks Hannah...” Barty winked, taking the keys “maybe after I’m done with this job I’ll take you out?”

She giggled. “You’re a bad man, Mr Crouch. You’re never done with your job.”

“A-ah, I suppose you’ve got me there. Oh well, if only our destinies were different...” He gave a little wave and started leading them toward the lift, where the footman swiftly drew back the protective gate and opened the door for them. When he tried to follow them inside, Barty waved him off. “No need, I know how this works.”

The lift moved upward at a speed that had Harry stumbling for a moment before he managed to get his bearings. He saw Ron and Hermione doing the same, reaching out for each other for support. A moment later and the lift slowed down again, just as quickly as it had started. This time Harry stumbled hard enough to hit the wall.

Next to the controls, Barty smirked. “Sorry, sorry. That’s not the tourist-friendly way. I’m not much for wasting time.” He pressed another button and the door opened, giving them room to pull open the safety gates outside. “Anyway, here we are.”

If there was one thing Harry could say about the hotel, then it was that it certainly followed a theme. The corridor on the seventh floor looked the same as it had in the lobby and when Barty opened the door to one of the rooms it was obvious that they did as well.

“Room number one,” the guard said, dangling the key. “Who wants it?” The room was about the size of their entire apartment back home, with most of the space being taken up by a king size bed, head facing the left wall. On the other side of it, large windows offered an amazing view of the city.

“You guys take it,” Harry said, nodding to Hermione and Ron. “I mean, look at the size of that bed. It’s about time you got some luxury!”

“Actually, the not to spoil your grand gesture or anything, but the rooms are all the same.” Barty handed the key to Hermione and dangled the other in front of Harry’s face. “Have a look yourself.” He nodded to the door on the opposite side of the corridor.

“Oh, by the way, Barty,” Hermione cut in as Harry grabbed the key and crossed the hall, “what about you?”

“What about me?”

Hermione frowned. “You only got two keys from the receptionist. What about your room?”

“Ah.” Barty smiled. “Not to worry. Lord Riddle has a special deal with this place, so we’ve got our own keys. See, it’s those rooms over there.” He waved toward the end of the hall.

“Then how does other people use them?” Ron piped up, already inside the room.

“Well that’s the beauty of it, innit? They don’t.”

“You own rooms in a hotel?” Harry asked, having got his door opened but yet to step inside. “Isn’t that a bit over the top?”

“My Lord figured it would be worth it. He’s in town working enough that travelling to and from the manor every day would be wasting too much time.”

“He’s got a manor?!” Harry shook his head. “Nevermind, I don’t know why I’m even surprised. Of course he’s got a manor. He’s a bloody lord.”

Feeling fed up with the topic, Harry stepped inside his room and shut the door behind him. Like Barty had said, the room really seemed to be just like Hermione and Ron’s, only here the head of the bed stood against the right wall and the windows were on the other side.

Harry dropped his pack on the ground and then stepped forward, putting his hand on the bed and pushing down. The bedsheets were soft underneath his fingers, but the mattress felt firm, moving only slightly beneath his fingers. So different from his own mattress, which most nights seemed to be made out of loosely packed cotton that went every directions but under his body. He wondered if he’d even be able to sleep on it.

The room was quiet as well, no sound but that of his own breathing. Harry wasn’t sure if the building was just well made or if they used magic to seal any sound from entering. Considering the amount of people on the street, it had to be a spell. No mere bricks could cut out sound so thoroughly.

Harry didn’t like it. He wondered if having taken two rooms was unnecessary. The bed was large enough to hold three people and he would probably feel better in a room where there was any other sound.

Taking his hand of the bed, Harry shook his head. “Buck up.” He told himself, listening to the sound being swallowed by the silence. “It’s just one night.” And Ron and Hermione could do with some privacy.

As he stopped talking, the silence pressed in on him again, somehow almost making a noise with its absence. He might, maybe, be able to sleep there, but he couldn’t stand being in that room for longer than he needed to.

Taking two quick steps back, Harry reached the door without exploring further. The corridor was empty now, but Hermione opened the when he knocked to let him in.

“Alright, you ready to go?” He asked.

Hermione glanced behind herself, over to where Ron was currently barefoot and looking over every nook and cranny. “He’s hoping for another of those magic spaces,” she told Harry. “I was apparently quite mean to stop him from crawling around Riddle’s cupboard earlier.”

“I take it there’s no success?”

“Not yet. But there might be a whole square metre he hasn’t yet checked.” Hermione sounded fond.

They watched as Ron ran around without speaking. And it was still too silent.

“I dunno about these rooms...” Harry said after a moment. “Gives me the creeps.”

“Too quiet, yeah?” Hermione nodded. “I wonder if opening the window might help.”

Harry looked at her. “’mione, you’re a genius.” He rushed over to the window, fiddling with the mechanics to get it open for a minute before figuring it out. There was some sort of pulley, which winched the upper part of the glass open, leaving the bottom where it was. As the window split something snapped and to Harry’s great relief sound seemed to come rushing in. There was the sound of cars and the murmur of a lot of people talking at the same time. “Really, a genius.”

Where Hermione had seated herself on the bed, she looked smug. Ron pulled his head out of a cupboard and looked over at him. “Oi, what just happened. Feels like the cotton in my ears just disappeared.”

“Well,” Harry said, “what’s gonna happen is I wanna go outside. Don’t you wanna see the city?! We can stare at the inside of a cupboard once we’re back.”

Ron’s eyes lit up. “Oh yeah!” He scrambled his way up, locating his shoes and jumping on one foot as he tried to put them on while still moving. “I’m ready, let’s go!”

Harry laughed and raced him to the door, making it there before without issues as Ron had yet to tie either shoe. He ran out the hallway and pressed the button to call the lift. By the time the cart arrived so had Hermione and Ron and they fell inside, much to the chagrin of the man inside.

“What floor, sirs and madam?”

“Ground floor.” Hermione answered, with the semblance of calm.

The footman nodded, and pulled a lever, and the machine gently began to lower them. It was quite unlike Barty’s way of driving and a lot more pleasant, but, Harry couldn’t help but notice, a lot slower. The ride seemed to go at a crawl and Harry remembered taking the lift with Riddle, and he remembered his own attempts at slipping the personnel some extra money. He didn’t have that urge now, and wondered if it was possible to get used to luxury within barely a day. Or maybe Riddle’s words had got to him. Harry glanced at the man controlling the elevator, his straight posture and proud expression. Somehow this also seemed like a man who would take offence at being offered money. Was that what it was like to make an honest living?

They arrived in the lobby without incident and Harry rushed through the hall to fling the doors open to the hustle of the street. The doorman looked rather taken aback as the doors flung wide without him having the chance to even grab the handle.

Harry didn’t pay him any mind, excited to finally be allowed to explore the city at his leisure. He’d already crossed the street – almost getting hit by a carriage in the process – before stopping to let Ron and Hermione catch up with him. As they did, he turned.

“Eh, where should we go first, anyway?”

Hermione bit her lip. “Oh no, we should have told Barty we were leaving. I bet he could have told us exactly what places are good to go to.”

“Oh come on! It’s us, we don’t need any chaperones.” Harry shook his head. “Hey, let’s just pick a direction, huh? I’m sure we’ll find something great!”

Ron nodded vigorously. “I second that! Let’s go this way!” He pointed to an alley just behind them.

“Really? Through the alley?” Hermione was doubtful.

“The best place to be, you know this.”

“Well, maybe for thieves!” She had lowered her voice to a hiss to avoid being overheard. “But we’re supposed to get away from that, aren’t we?”

“Oh come on! You know the best places are always away from the crowds.”

Hermione sighed, but she nodded. “Alright then, lead the way.”

  
  


Hours later Harry found himself on a rooftop, having left to explore on his own when his friends decided to go back to the hotel. Hermione had argued that he should go back with them, of course, but Ron had taken his side and in the end she’d been forced to agree that Harry was a grown-up and allowed to do as he pleased. As long as he promised to be back by morning.

So now Harry gazed out over the city, sighing with contentment. It was already approaching the early hours of the morning, yet London was still a hub of light and movement beneath him. It was amazing. Back in Tutshill everything would have been long since closed for the night. Leaning back on his hands, the thief promised himself that they would definitively be coming back there once their work was done. He’d explore every alley, every nook and find every secret this city had to offer. And when Hermione wasn’t looking, he’d race Ron to see who could climb those walking machines faster.

Everywhere he looked, there seemed to be something new to see. Towards the harbour there was a giant wheel, lit with glittering lights, and in the other direction the light seemed to be set in patches, made even brighter by those spots of darkness that wove it’s way through. It was fascinating. Harry wondered if the dark spots were similar to the area they lived in back home, with people too poor to keep the power on for frivolous purposes. Or if it was caused by something else entirely, something he couldn’t even guess at.

The sudden flash of light from one of these spots startled him, enough that the loud crack that followed barely got any attention. A moment later it flashed again, followed by the sound of loud yells.

A fight. It was definitively a fight.

Harry got to his feet and gauged the distance to the next roof over. The action was taking place only a couple of blocks away, and if he could jump that distance he’d be able to have an excellent view. He narrowed his eyes at the gap. It was a little further than he was completely comfortable with, but the house was peppered with doors half-covered by railings that should be easy enough to grab a hold of in case he’d misjudged.

Hermione would probably kill him for it, but Harry didn’t waste any time, taking the leap at a run and pushing off with all his might. Dashing through the air felt like flying and he couldn’t help but let out a delighted chuckle, cut short as he landed on the other ledge and stumbled into a chimney from the residual force.

“Ugh.” Harry huffed, but shook his head. That could have been a lot worse, truly. He rushed across the roof and threw himself at the next one, it was closer this time, and a little lower.

All the way over here, it was very obvious that a fight was going on. The lights kept flashing and he could hear pained moans and yelled insults. It was obvious that this was a magical fight and Harry couldn’t help but feel excited.

Peering over the edge, Harry found himself staring straight down at the action. It didn’t seem to be a very fair fight, six people against one. Although three of them were already down and as Harry watched a fourth keeled over, hit by a huge lash made of fire. As the light flared, Harry suddenly realised that he knew the magician.

He groaned. Of course it was Riddle. Because in a city of this size it felt impossible that he’d stumble upon someone else’s fight.

For a moment he considered turning around and leaving. This was really none of his business and Riddle, now with his back toward Harry and fending off the remaining two men with his fire, didn’t exactly seem to be having any problems.

Still, there was no harm in looking. Even if it was Riddle, Harry couldn’t deny his curiosity. In fact, since it was Riddle, there shouldn’t be any harm in getting a bit closer.

Harry peered carefully over the edge. There was a balcony below him, about halfway down. Close enough to see quite well, but not so close that he would get accidentally hit. Shimmying down was child’s play, and it did get him a great view of Riddle’s powerful back and the way he didn’t quite seem to be holding the whip, the string of fire seemingly materializing just a couple of centimetres away from his hand.

“That’s weird..” Harry murmured to himself. Down on the ground, Riddle successfully got a hit in, sending the man sprawling. In the moment the lord turned to the last man, all was silent, except for a scraping noise beneath the balcony.

Quick as lightning, Harry looked down and saw that one of the men had got up. He looked rather worse for wear, a thick patch of burnt skin running down his arm and covering half his face, but that didn’t stop him from removing a metal object out of his jacket.

Harry blinked, tilting his head to the side. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it didn’t take genius to figure out it was a weapon of some sort. And the man was aiming it at Riddle. To be more precise, at Riddle’s unguarded back.

Harry acted without thinking. In a bare moment he’d climbed on top of the railing and then he was falling, feet aimed at the man’s upper body. The impact was softer than Harry expected, as the man unbalanced, yet accompanied by a loud sound that made Harry’s eardrums ache. As the assailant impacted with the ground the thief unbalanced and fell, rolling as he did so.

There was another crack, and then silence. Harry pushed himself to his feet, shaking his head to try and clear the ringing in his ears. There was no one left standing.

Riddle had sunk down on the ground, huddled into something resembling a crouch and the man he had been fighting was completely down, face a burned mess.

“Ah, shit...” Harry exclaimed, coming up to Riddle. “Hey you, eh, you alive?”

Up close, it was obvious that Riddle was, in fact, alive. There was a bleeding wound on his left thigh, mostly covered by his hand, but other than that he seemed fine. As Harry got closer, Riddle stumbled to his feet and grinned at him. It didn’t look quite as smooth as normal.

“Quite the unexpected saviour, aren’t you?”

Harry frowned. “I’m hardly anyone’s saviour. You just got lucky I’m curious.”

“Oh,” Riddle said, “I’ve gotten lucky thanks to your curiosity before.” He smirked and then stilled, the playful expression disappearing as if it had never been there. “Apologies, for a moment I forgot myself.”

Harry stilled too, a witty retort stuck in his throat. The feeling the discomfort of being around Riddle began creeping back. It hadn’t been like this, before. Riddle would flirt and Harry would blush but it had been.. sort of good.

“Nevermind that.” Harry said, shaking his head to try and dislodge the thought that maybe he had overreacted. “Let me see that leg.” Without waiting for a reply, Harry stepped closer and reached out, gently removing Riddle’s hand from where it was pressed against the wound. It didn’t look very big, but it was clear that the magic had cut all the way through. “I think we need to find you a clinic.” He took of his scarf to tie it around the leg.

“No.” Riddle said, but didn’t stop him. In fact he was almost unnaturally still, not moving a hair as Harry worked. “I don’t need a clinic. The train is pretty close from here.”

Harry tied the knot and pulled it hard, slightly satisfied when Riddle actually flinched at that. “You want to go to the _train?_ Right now?”

“It’s closer than the hotel.”

The thief shook his head, black hair flying everywhere. “You need to see a healer!”

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He paused and met Harry’s glare. “You can either help me to the train, or we can stay here until their backup arrives.”

“Oh, right, shit.” He glanced around, taking in the dark alley and the abundance of spots where someone could be lying in wait. “Fine, you’re right, let’s go.” Harry turned on the spot, grabbing Riddle’s arm to put it over his shoulder. “Where to?”

A second passed and then Riddle slumped, leaning his weight against Harry. “That way.”

They made their way past the alley, turning as Riddle indicated. The going was rather slow, but not as bad as Harry had feared. However, as they went along he could tell that the lord was struggling, his face pale and breath heavy.

“Do you need to take a break?” Harry asked, turning his face slightly. Riddle’s soft hair brushed against his cheek and Harry remembered grabbing it.

“It’s fine. We’re almost there.”

“Right...” Harry muttered, and focused on where he was walking, on the houses around them and basically anything that wasn’t the feel of Riddle next to him. This just wasn’t the time. “So, uh, why did those people attack you anyway?”

Riddle huffed. “Who knows? They didn’t stop to inform me before attacking.”

“Come on, I don’t believe you don’t know why six people suddenly decided to try and make mince meat out of you. Not that they succeeded but...”

Riddle let out a small, disgruntled sound. Harry would have almost described it as cute. “A disgrace. They might very well have succeeded if you hadn’t come along. Shot in the back…” He shook his head and muttered under his breath. “...would never have happened before...”

“Before what?” Harry piped up.

“You know, it’s polite to pretend you didn’t hear people muttering to themselves.”

“Sure, but I’ve never pretended to be polite. So before what?” Harry grinned.

Riddle let out a huff of breath that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. “It doesn’t matter. It’s being taken care of.”

“Oh wow, that’s very much not an answer at all!” Harry shook his head.

Instead of replying, Riddle nodded toward a fence up ahead. “Here we are.”

Behind the metal lattice there was darkness, but Harry could make out vague shapes that might very well be trains. The fence stretched in both directions, no gate in sight.

“Okay, not to ruin your great plan of not going to a healer and instead hanging out in your carriage, but how exactly were you planning on getting inside?”

Riddle stood on his own and gave him a sidelong look. “How were you planning on doing it?”

“Me? I’d climb it, but I doubt you’re up for it right now.”

“Are you sure you can?” Riddle raised an eyebrow, and it was an obvious bait. Still, Harry wasn’t one to back out of a challenge.

“Watch me.” Honestly, it was barely even a challenge to climb a fence like that. There wasn’t even any barbs on the top to discourage people from climbing it. Once Harry had reached the top he sat down, turning back to Riddle. “How’s that?!” Except there was no one on the ground.

“Very impressive.” Riddle spoke from behind him. “If a bit slow.”

Harry turned his torso so quickly he almost fell and was faced with the sight of Riddle flying – _flying! –_ next to him. Any retort about his climbing skills faded from his mind. “You’re flying!” He said instead, in amazement.

“Well spotted.” Riddle smirked and for a second he seemed his usual self. Then he twitched and began to slowly lower himself to the ground, hunching up to catch his breath once down. Harry half-climbed, half flung himself off the fence.

“Hey, hey, you okay?”

“Fi-fine…” Riddle wheezed, and he looked really pale to Harry’s eyes. “That just… took more out of me than expected.”

“Yeah, no shit! Come on, let’s get you to bed. Where’s your damn carriage?”

Riddle wheezed “number four”, and Harry noticed that there were huge buildings a short distance away, all numbered. “Alright then, hold on, we’re almost there..”

This time when Harry pulled Riddle’s arm over his shoulder the man ended up half-draped over him. Walking was slow and if Harry had been any stronger he would have physically carried the taller man.

“Oi, why did you try and show off you stupid ass? We already knew you were fucking hurt, you can’t be so irresponsible.”

That got another chuckle out of Riddle. “Did you know,” he said, “that you swear a lot when you’re worried?”

“What?!”

“It’s quite adorable.”

“What the hell, this isn’t the time for that!” Whatever _that_ was. Harry certainly didn’t feel almost bubbly by the idea of Riddle finding him cute. “Come on, here’s number four. Now where’s… ah, there!”

Harry got them the last bit of the way and left Riddle leaning on the steps while he opened the door. He already had his lock-picks out before he realised that the door wasn’t even locked.

“Who,” He said, going back down and helping Riddle up, “doesn’t lock the door when they’re away?”

“No one could get in anyway.”

“I could!”

“Sure, but a lock wouldn’t stop you either.”

“That’s.. that’s not the point! Come on now, sit down before you faint!” Harry shoved Riddle down into a seat as gently as he could before going back to close and lock the door. “Okay, now.. uh, water should be good, right? And do you have any strong alcohol? We need to sterilise that.”

Riddle just pointed to a cupboard, before proceeding to undo his trousers, shimmying to get them over his hips. Harry froze.

“Hey, what.. what the hell are you doing?”

“You’re going to clean my wound, aren’t you?” At Harry’s hesitant nod he continued. “Then you need access to it, don’t you?”

“Shit.” Harry turned back to the cupboard, angrily throwing the doors open and finding a bottle of water and one of gin, along with a basket of cloth napkins. He wasn’t sure gin was the best for these purposes, but it would have to do. When he came back, Riddle’s trousers were in a pile on the floor and Harry tried not to think about the fact that this was the fist time he had seen this much of his skin. “Okay, uhm, eh, you want a shot of this first?” He waved the gin bottle. “I’ve heard it’s good, numbs the pain.”

“Perhaps you should take one with me.” Riddle was eyeing him critically. “You seem a bit nervous.”

“Oh no, it’s just, usually Hermione handles this? I’ve seen her do it a bunch of times though so it should be fine.” His hands were definitively not shaking as he fetched a glass and poured a generous amount of gin into it.

Riddle took the glass without further urging, chugging down a mouthful before handing it back to Harry. “Your turn.”

“Ye-yeah, okay.” The alcohol burned going down, but the heat made him feel slightly comforted.

“Seems like it just grazed me, so the bullet went through.” Riddle said, inspecting the wound idly. He was pushing at his skin so he could look at the exit wound.

“Ugh.” Harry said, wondering briefly what a bullet was before swatting his hand away. “We’re.. we’re gonna clean it first, okay? And it’s probably gonna to sting like a bitch.”

“Heh. But your concern is sweet enough to make up for it.”

Harry just shook his head. Riddle was doing _that_ again and now just wasn’t the time to feel strangely bubbly and confused. He grabbed the bottle again and poured it slightly on the side of the wound. As expected Riddle’s expression hardened as the liquid touched his bared flesh.

“Alright, just a bit more… gotta get the other side too.” Harry soaked the wound until he thought it looked clean. Although with the blood welling up, it was rather hard to tell. “Okay, now, hold this tight, would you?” He pushed a folded napkin over the wound, waiting only for Riddle to take over before letting go. “Now, uh.. bandaids… or maybe we should do stitches?”

As Harry rose from his crouched position the world spun around him and he stumbled, forced to grab on to Riddle’s good leg for support. The skin, he noticed now that he wasn’t occupied with a bleeding wound, was warm and soft under his fingers. He wanted to smooth his fingers down it.

In the end he probably stayed still for too long because Riddle raised an eyebrow at him. “Not sure I’m comfortable with you sticking a needle through my skin right now, darling.” Riddle drawled. “But it’s in that drawer. And bandages should be in the one next to it.”

Flinching slightly at being caught while he was zone out, admiring Riddle’s _leg_ , Harry quickly stumbled to his feet. He found both needle, thread and bandages after a bit of fumbling, but Riddle took the needle out of his hands once he was back, threading it and unceremoniously sewing his own wound shut. Harry gaped at him.

“This isn’t my first time.” Riddle said and shrugged. “Gets easier with practise.”

Normally, Harry figured that would have been an innuendo. Because everything Riddle said to him felt like it was. But the tone was carefully even, no hint of any additional meanings. Harry found himself missing it. Now that he wasn’t actively angry at Riddle, the previous thrill of being in his presence was creeping back.

Once Riddle was done and the wounds were closed, he did let Harry clean, wetting another napkin with water and washing away residual blood. As he did so, Riddle was watching him intensely. Harry tried to not focus on Riddle’s skin and he tried real hard to keep a straight face.

“So,” the lord asked as Harry wrapped the bandages around and around. “I apologise for suggesting you needed a nanny. Clearly I’m the one who needs someone with him at all times.” Harry startled and looked up at him. Riddle looked quite sincere. “I’m very glad it was _you_ who found me tonight, Harry.”

Riddle hadn’t touched him, hadn’t even suggested anything inappropriate, yet Harry could feel a blush slowly making it’s way across his face. He quickly looked down, tying the bandage in place. “Oh, uh, it.. it was nothing. And I guess I’m.. I’m sorry too. For accusing you of stuff.”

The lord let out a quiet chuckle. “Sometimes, I might be a bit presumptuous. But I’ll make sure to get you a cabin of your own, in the train tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Harry swallowed. He should be happy, because he was getting what he wanted. Still… “Sure, that’s… we can talk about it tomorrow, right? For now, I think we should get you into bed.”

“What?” Riddle said quietly, frowning at his tone “Wasn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yeah, no it was… eh...” Harry leaned back and carefully didn’t meet Riddle’s eyes. “No, you’re right, that’s.. great. But you need rest now! Don’t worry about it!”

Riddle raised an eyebrow, but when Harry reached over to help him get up he quietly accepted the outstretched hand and leaned against the thief as they made their way to the bed at the back of the cabin.

As Harry pulled the dark green curtain away and began to ease Riddle down there was a swift movement and he found his own legs swiped out from beneath him and a shove had him lying on his back on the bed instead, Riddle straddling his hips.

“You know, Harry,” The lord said, leaning down until they were close, “if you’d like to stay with me, all you need to do is say it.” He grinned. “I would certainly not disagree.”

Riddle’s face was mostly covered in darkness, but Harry could still feel the sensation of his eyes trailing across his face. His heart was beating heavy now and there was a sense of anticipation rushing through his veins. Yet Riddle didn’t move, waiting for his response.

Harry swallowed and Riddle’s eyes followed the motion.

“Can I take that as a yes?” Moving closer, the lord’s lips hovered over Harry’s. “I’d like to get the satisfaction of seeing you come undone as I introduce you to pleasures you’ve never felt before.”

Eyes blown wide, Harry couldn’t suppress the shudder that worked through his body at that. Without thinking he surged upwards, meeting Riddle’s lips and groaning as the kiss deepened. Wrapping his hands around Riddle’s neck, Harry first thought that the grunt was one of pleasure. That was until he remembered the wound.

He broke the kiss and saw the wince on the lord’s face and the pallor of his skin. “You...” Harry sat up and pushed, flipping Riddle over until he was sat on the bed and Harry straddled him instead.

“You’re being unusually aggressive.” Riddle commented.

“Well… you’re supposed to be resting. And besides, you’re not the only one who can come up with new things!” Harry burst out, pushing Riddle down until he was lying properly.

Riddle’s pupils expanded until they seemed to take up most of his eyes. “No?” He breathed, and it was ridiculous that Harry felt like wrapping himself around the sound. “Well then, don’t be shy. Show me.” He was lying back on the bed, not moving except for his eyes that followed Harry’s every move with intensity.

Harry leaned forward, bringing their mouths back together and kissing him deeply, enjoying the groan as he nibbled on Riddle’s lip and the way Riddle bit him back, hard enough to sting. Shifting his weight to one hand, Harry used the other to worm between them, running over Riddle’s pants and feeling satisfaction at the hard erection twitching as he touched it. Rubbing above the cloth had Riddle growling and his hands rose to work at undoing Harry’s trousers, pushing them and his underwear down over his hips.

Harry pulled back, getting off the bed only long enough to pull Riddle’s pants off and pushing his own off fully. Then he had to take a moment to just stare at the sight of Riddle on the bed, hair tousled and mostly undressed, his hard cock proudly displayed. The lord was staring at him, seeming almost as enthralled.

“Harry...” He purred, “I thought you were going to show me something new?”

Swallowing, Harry nodded and slid back on top, the motion rubbing their erections together. The smooth slide felt amazing, and Harry was caught up in the sensation, letting his hand slide between them to grab both at once. Riddle hissed and he grabbed Harry’s ass, using it as leverage to pull Harry forward into a short kiss and the thief gasped as the motion slid their cocks fully against each other.

When they broke, Riddle was smirking. “You really do like to tease, don’t you?” He relaxed his arms enough to let Harry sink back before dragging him in again.

Groaning, Harry started moving as well, feeling almost like electricity was rushing through him with every slide. Riddle’s hands were clenching, urging him on to move at faster pace, fast enough that they were both panting, breath coming in quick gasps as Harry approached his finish.

As he came, Riddle kept him moving, rubbing their cocks together just long enough for him to come as well, before letting Harry collapse on top of him. His hands were still holding on to Harry’s ass, now massaging it gently, fingers sliding between the cheeks to gently caress the sensitive flesh between.

“Next time,” he spoke softly, “It’s my turn to show you something new.” A pause and when he spoke again his tone was a bit more playful. “I quite think you’re going to like it. At least _I_ am looking forward to it.”

Harry faked a groan and managed to roll to the side, feeling the cum sticking to his belly. “Should I be worried?”

Riddle laughed. “Not at all. I’ll be gentle.”

“...Right...” Harry shook his head, but he couldn’t help the playful smile that lingered on his lips. “That sure seems like you.”

“Don’t worry,” Riddle rolled on his side, slinging an arm over Harry’s waist. “I’ll show you just how sweet I can be.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, but didn’t answer. Instead he leaned back on the mattress, amazed at how relaxed he was. How surprisingly comfortable he was in the presence of Riddle. Despite having seen Riddle wielding fire like it was nothing, Harry didn’t feel scared of him. When he thought about it, the lord had given him no reason to be scared.

Safely soothed by that thought and by Riddle’s hand gently trailing along his side, Harry felt himself slowly drifting asleep. It had been a long day, and Hermione was always nagging him to get enough sleep.

Contrary to her words, the thought made him sit up abruptly, throwing Riddle’s arm of him. The man startled a little, blinking up at Harry.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh, shit, I.. I just realised I promised to be back at the hotel by morning.”

Riddle let out a deep sigh. “Stay.”

Harry was tempted to just sink back into bed with him, but no, Hermione would be worried and that meant she would be yelling. Bending down to reach for his trousers, Harry the mess on his stomach made itself known and he grimaced. One thing was for sure, and that was that he would not be leaving like that.

Dropping the trousers, Harry went over to the table to grab the rest of the water and a clean cloth, swabbing himself off quickly before realising that Riddle probably was in a similar state, and he probably wouldn’t want to leave it until morning either.

“Come on,” Harry approached the bed, “I’ll clean you up and then I’ll leave, okay?”

“No.” Riddle shook his head, but obediently rolled over to his back when Harry nudged him to. “You should stay. They’ll be coming here anyway, and it’s almost morning already.”

Harry glanced out the window, but in the darkness of the train station he couldn’t see any light from outside. Still, Riddle was probably right about it being closer to morning. “Hermione will yell at me...” He said slowly, swiping the cloth and removing the worst of the mess. Riddle let out a deep sound of contentment.

“I’ll tell her not to.” Riddle reached out and grabbed the hand, pulling with enough force that Harry tumbled back into bed, half on top of him. “Besides,” he paused, looking slightly more awake and mischievous. “You won’t leave an injured man on his own, would you?”

Harry snorted. “It’s a little late to play the injured card.”

Riddle chuckled, and against his better knowledge, Harry let himself relax, throwing the cloth on the floor. Next to him, Riddle rustled around and a moment later there was a blanket covering them and a warm arm was back over his waist. There was an absurdity in the fact that they were still lying sideways on the bed, legs halfway out, yet neither attempted to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy Harry's not been wanting to cooperate with me for a while, but here we go! :D 
> 
> Please let me know what you think! I love hearing your thoughts <3


	9. On the road again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, if any chapter is the reason for this story's rating, it's this one. Just as a heads up.

Harry startles at the sudden banging on the door and as the warm shape next to him stir, moving away and taking the heat with it. He’s awake in a flash, but then Riddle’s there, making a soothing noise and running his hand through Harry’s hair.

“Shh, keep sleeping..” He murmurs, and Harry is too tired to argue. He falls back into a drowsy state as Riddle leaves him, only half aware of the door opening and the hushed conversation on the other side of the carriage.

It’s over soon enough and then Riddle returns, a gentle hand smoothing down Harry’s hair again. “Look at you,” Riddle chuckles and begins to shift Harry over until he’s fully in the bed, “almost tumbling off the bed. Come on now...” The lord stops pushing him and slides down into the bed himself, pulling Harry close.

Warm and content, Harry snoozes. He hazily notices as the train begins to shudder and move. But it’s more comforting than anything and he lets the rhythmic sound lull him back into dreams.

The next time Harry wakes, he wakes for real. There is a loud bang and then there’s a woman shouting, followed by Riddle’s lowered voice. “Try to regain your calm, Miss Granger. Harry’s still sleeping.”

In bed, Harry startles and sits up in complete darkness. It takes him a moment to realise that it is caused by the drapes and that outside of the heavy cloth Riddle and Hermione are arguing. For a moment, he wants to hide. Taking the cowards way out and pretending that he’s still sleeping so Riddle would have to deal with Hermione for him.

“He can manage without!” Hermione continues, voice not noticeably lower. “Do you think _I_ got any sleep, when he never came back!?”

“That was my fault.” Riddle says and Harry can almost hear the fake smile, intended to soothe, in his voice. “He saved me and I insisted he stay here.”

Okay, that was enough. It was bad enough that Hermione knew he had slept in the lord’s carriage, she didn’t need Riddle to tell her any _details_. Taking a deep breath, Harry fumbled for the edge of the curtain, splitting it in two and stumbling through.

“Harry!” Hermione screeched as she saw him and then her mouth closed with a clack. Harry blinked at her and only too late realised that he was dressed in nothing but his pants and a very wrinkly shirt.

“Uh. Hi...” Harry ran a hand through his hair and tried desperately to not look like he just got out of bed after having a round with Riddle in it. Even if it was the truth. “So, ‘mione, I’m really sorry I never made it back! But I was on my way when there was this bang and I found Riddle fighting these guys and I had to help out cause his back was turned and one of them was going to sneak a shot at his back but then I didn’t manage well enough and Riddle was still injured and I couldn’t just leave him there...” Harry trailed off at the blank look on her face.

“Riddle was injured?” Hermione asked once he had finally stopped. Harry nodded. She looked away from him and over to Riddle. The lord had at some point dressed and washed up, looking his normal immaculate self. He gestured at his leg where you could just make out a slight bulge under the trousers.

“Harry’s quite a capable nurse.” He smirked.

Over by the bed, Harry winced. “Well… not really…”

“You’re selling yourself short. You did wonderfully well with the anaesthesia.”

Hermione glanced between the two of them looking rather nonplussed. “Why.. why didn’t you take him to a hospital, Harry?”

The thief shrugged. “He wouldn’t let me. And he insisted the train was closer than the hotel.”

She glared over at Riddle, but he only shrugged with a set expression. A frown crossed Hermione’s face but she didn’t press any further.

“Well...” She paused. “I’m glad you’re fine, at least. Even if you ought to have come back, like you promised.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Was that all, miss Granger?” Tom asked, all politeness. “I’m afraid I’ve got some business to attend to.”

“Ah, yes of course.” Hermione sent Harry a glare and there was no mistaking the meaning behind it.

“Actually, I guess I should be going as well then.” Harry quickly added, rushing over to where he spotted his trousers hanging over the back of the seating and pulling them on. Riddle glanced at him over his shoulder and for some reason his expression made Harry feel like maybe the business he had been referring to had been _Harry_. That thought had him remembering Riddle’s promise from the night before and Harry was unable to stop the choked sound that broke out of his throat. He wasn’t… no it was much too early for that.

Trousers finally in place, Harry dashed for the door. He swung around Riddle, only stopping at the threshold to say “see you later?”

In response, Riddle grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him close, kissing him as if Hermione wasn’t standing right next to them. “Oh,” he whispered when he finally let go. “You can count on it.”

It was a beet red Harry who turned and dashed before Hermione even had the chance to react. He could feel eyes following him and he didn’t need to know what expression was on Riddle’s face at that moment. Still, when he stopped to open the door to the next carriage he couldn’t help but glance back. Riddle looked a little bit too much like the cat that got the canary.

Harry pushed the door open and rushed through.

Hermione caught up with him before he had reached the next door. She was giving him a rather wide-eyed stare, but there was a smugness to her expression.

“So...” She said. “I take it you made up?”

“Do we.. do we have to do this?” Harry couldn’t meet her eyes. Last night had been eventful, and while he wasn’t unhappy that his and Riddle’s relationship had gone back to what it was, he wasn’t sure _what_ it was. The idea of spending a full day with Riddle in bed, letting the older man introduce him to all of these new pleasures he had promised was enticing. Almost terribly so. But it as also frightening. Every time they were alone together Harry felt like his world narrowed down until there was nothing but the two of them in it and that was… he wasn’t sure what it was. Concerning, might be the word for it. And worst part was that he didn’t know how Riddle felt about it. Most certainly not the same at least.

“Yes, I think we do!” Hermione broke into his reverie. “Only yesterday you were so mad at Riddle I thought you might actually try to beat him up, and now everything is fine? And don’t think I’m over you breaking your promise either! You know we don’t do that to each other.”

“I.. I know, it was really bad of me. But Riddle was injured and I couldn’t leave an injured person alone, right?”

“Oh I wish I could believe that was the reason.” She took a deep breath. “But at least we know you’re alright. You won’t believe how panicked we all were when I knocked on your door this morning and no one answered! And Barty was really worried… maybe not so much about you but about how he would tell Riddle that you were missing.” She grimaced. “But he had to go and tell him, only to find out that you’d been with Riddle all along… You should have seen Ron’s face when he came back and told us. If I hadn’t been livid it would have been hilarious.” She grinned.

Harry grinned back. “I promise that the next time I accidentally bump into Riddle and save his hide I’ll be sure to come back and inform you about it.”

“Please, now we know what your promises are worth.” Hermione giggled. “So… you actually going to tell me anything more?”

They stopped by a door but Hermione didn’t make any movement to open it. Instead she gazed at Harry expectantly.

“I… I don’t know, ‘mione. It’s just… I’m around him and I feel sort of swept away. He’s just so...” he bit back the word charming. “...So intense. Like I’m his sole focus. And I saw him in trouble and I just forgot all about being mad and he can be surprisingly sweet and...”

Hermione was smiling at him, a small smile that meant she understood. “You know… when Ron started looking at me like that, I fought with him. You probably remember. We spent a year arguing about the smallest of things because I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Harry shook his head. “It’s not the same thing.”

“It’s not?”

“No, of course not. Ron was in love with you. There’s no way Riddle feels like that. He doesn’t even like me. Or well, you know, I suppose we get on well enough but he doesn’t _like_ like me.”

Hermione’s smile turned slightly sad. “I think you might be wrong, Harry. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is how you feel. Do you want to be with him?”

“I..” Harry stopped. There was nothing he could say because he just didn’t know. He was attracted to Riddle, more than he’d ever been to any other person. But did that mean he liked him?

“Well, you don’t need to know right now.” Hermione shrugged and pulled him into a one armed hug. “Just as long as you don’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Good.” She gave another squeeze. “Ready to face Ron’s questions now? Oh, and we’ve got your pack with us. Luckily Barty managed to charm the receptionist into letting us in to your room.”

“Oh yeah, thanks for that! Although I guess I could have just gone back for it.”

“Uh...” Hermione stared at him. “Harry, you do know we’re on a moving train, right?”

Harry startled, turning around to stare at the landscape flashing by. He’d been so preoccupied by the things happening that he hadn’t even realised the train was actually moving and that he had completely missed them leaving London. “Yeah… of course I do!” He tried, fully aware that Hermione didn’t buy any of it.

“Well, we did bring it with us, so it’s all good.” The bushy haired woman smiled and then turned and opened the door.

“Mate!” Ron yelled, before Harry had so much as the time to take in the room. He found himself with an armful of red hair as Ron squeezed him tight. Ron usually wasn’t as hands on as Hermione, but Harry appreciated it when he was. And it made a pang of guilt burst through him. He must have really had him worried.

“Sorry!” He shouted, “I should have gone to tell you guys, it was just Riddle was injured and then..!” he broke off, face flaming and grateful that Ron couldn’t see his face while hugging him. Hopefully Hermione just assumed it was Ron’s hair that made Harry look bright red.

“Hehe,” Ron pulled back, patting him on the back. “It’s all good, mate. You’re here, you’re fine.”

“What?” Hermione sighed from where she had been shoved to the side when Ron flew at Harry. “What happened to you being furious and telling me that Harry was going to be grounded like forever.”

“Oh, you know… It’s Harry! He’s our silly boy. He apologised and how could I possibly stay mad at that face?”

Harry moulded his face into an innocent smile. “I’m an angel.”

“Yes you are!” Ron cooed at him, pinching both of his cheeks at once. “Our little angel who will seriously get his arse kicked if he disappears like that again!”

The pinching hurt. Harry raised his hands and shook his head to get loose. “On my honour as an angel, I promise I won’t do that to you again.” he paused. “If I can help it.”

Ron held his hand out to be shaken. Hermione sighed and shook her head.

“You better not.” Ron spoke solemnly as they shook hands, a firm up-down, up-down that had accompanied most of their sworn promises when they were young. Of course, at one point that had also involved a promise that neither would get a girlfriend while the other was single, so it might not have worked in all cases. Not that Harry blamed him. “So, why don’t you come inside and tell us what happened.”

Harry felt the blush creeping up again as they headed inside, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Do I have to? ‘Mione already knows, maybe she can tell it.”

“What?! You told her already?”

“Well I pretty much had to, or she might have knocked me out cold!”

Ron shrugged. “You’re not wrong about that. But you’re also not getting out of it so easily. Tell me what happened!”

Harry looked to Hermione pleadingly.

“I don’t think you want me to tell the story.” Hermione shrugged. “Not unless you want me telling Ron about how you rolled out of Riddle’s bed in nothing but your pants when I came knocking.” She grinned.

“Hermione!” Harry shouted, just as Ron exclaimed, “Harry, you dog!”

Despite his embarrassment, Harry burst out laughing. “Fine, fine, I’ll tell the story. Hermione’s just gonna make up sordid details otherwise.”

Ron listened with rapt attention as Harry told him what had happened and how he found Riddle getting attacked by several men. He very happily skimmed over the details of what had happened in the carriage, going only so far as to mention that Riddle had been hurt and that it would be rude to leave an injured person alone.

At that point, Ron cackled. “Sure, that old excuse! But hey, I think that’s good enough for me. I really don’t wanna hear the details of how you ended up without your trousers.”

Harry sighed. Hermione was looking smug.

There was a brief moment of silence. “So, what do we do now?” Harry asked. “We’re back on the train. Did anyone find out how long its going to take us to get there?”

“Barty said a couple of days,” Hermione frowned. “But he was a bit unclear on the details. It sounded like the train would only take us so far, but if we’re going to Nurmengard we’d have to travel quite a bit on the continent. I wish I had more information about their infrastructure, but it hasn’t really been something that’s been important up until now… Maybe they sell books on this train? Is that too much to hope for?”

“I think that ship’s sailed, babe.” Ron said in his sweetest voice, as if he was really trying to soften a blow.

“Well, I guess we can ask Barty about it.” Harry piped in. It wasn’t that he didn’t know that Riddle would technically be their best source of information, it was just that he would rather not. Not right now. Not until he figured out why he kept touching his lips and remembering Riddle’s parting kiss. And stopped wondering what might have happened if he hadn’t left.

His friends tilted their head, but for once seemed to be sensitive enough not to say anything about it.

“Well, maybe he knows how to get a hold of books at least.” Hermione stood up. “Let’s go find him. It’s not like we got anything better to do.”

“Right. So, uh, where would he be, anyway?” Harry wondered, realising that he hadn’t seen the man except for in or outside of Riddle’s carriage. But he couldn’t be sleeping in there, he very much doubted that Riddle would let him share his bed.

“Well, probably in his compartment. Unless he’s keeping a watch over Riddle.”

That actually reminded him. Wasn’t Barty Riddle’s bodyguard? Why it didn’t make sense that he let the lord walk around on his own.

“He has his own compartment? That doesn’t seem very efficient when he’s supposed to be guarding Riddle.”

“What, are you worried about your lover-boy?” Ron laughed.

“Harry,” Hermione added, “Barty isn’t actually Riddle’s guard.” She paused. “Or well, I guess he is but.. I asked him before and he said he’s more of a secretary. Because Riddle can take care of himself.”

“No, I know that… but...” but as strong as Riddle surely was, he could be taken down by a lucky strike. Harry wasn’t sure if the blow from last night would have killed him, had Harry not interfered, but he was pretty certain it would have been worse. And if Barty had been there he could have made sure it didn’t happen. In fact, he would probably have been able to stop it from happening all together. So, no matter how strong Riddle might be, he didn’t think it would be too bad for him to have someone tag along. Less as a guard, perhaps, and more just someone who could watch his back. Harry shrugged. “Well, whatever he is, let’s go find him?”

Hermione nodded, taking the lead and exiting the compartment. She led them back toward the front of the train until she reached a compartment just before the dining car. Barty opened the door quickly after she knocked, staring out at them with a welcoming smile.

“Hello,” he said, “I see we’ve all managed to find each other.” He winked at Harry, who blushed slightly.

“Uh, hi…”

“So, you’ve been a bad boy, then, haven’t you?” Barty continued as he opened the door wide and stepped back, gesturing for them to come inside. “You’ve got no idea how panicked I was when these two,” he gave a quick nod toward Hermione and Ron, “came knocking, tellin’ me they lost you. No idea.”

“Eh, yeah...” Harry began, but was interrupted as the guard kept talking.

“Going over to find Lord Riddle, telling him that you were missing...” He shuddered. “Oh, it sent shivers down my spine. He’d have had my hide, for sure! But then I go over, and he’s as cool as anything. If anything, seems a little bit amused actually. Which was, possibly, the worst reaction. You know how some people just go cold when they’re furious, right? I was thinking that was it.” He sank down in a chair. “Until he felt like I had been sweating enough, of course, and told me you were there, safe and sound.” He paused and frowned. “Actually, maybe I ought to thank you that it didn’t end up worse than it was. I’m pretty sure he’d have been happy to leave me hanging if he hadn’t been wanting to...” He stopped himself mid sentence. Harry narrowed his eyes at him and tried not to consider what Barty believed Riddle had been wanting to get back to. “Anyway. Glad you’re safe, all that. So what’d I owe the pleasure?”

Feeling a mixture of embarrassed and ashamed for causing all this trouble, Harry was happy to go stand in a corner while he let Hermione do the talking. He had a feeling that this night would be a story to come back and haunt him, no matter how much time passed.

“We wanted to know the plan, I guess.” Hermione said, “And to see if you had any books.”

“Books?” Barty seemed quizzically amused. “Well, I certainly have books, if just anything will do.”

“No, no, we were looking for information,” Hermione clarified, seemingly completely missing Barty’s amusement, “we wanted to know generally more about how long time it would take to go to Nurmengard and a little bit about what to expect once we get there.”

Barty shrugged. “Well, you’ve come to the wrong person. If you’re looking for a… _romance_ novel,” he raised his eyebrows suggestively, “then I’m sure I could provide. But my lord is the one doing all the planning.”

Harry made a face, but tried to smooth it over as quickly as possible. “But you know how long it’ll take, right?”

The guard shrugged again. “If we don’t have any more surprise stops, we should be arriving in Austria in about two days. Then we’ll have to make our way with horses. It’s rough terrain, so I believe it would take another day, maybe two. Depends on the state of the road.”

“Hmm..” Hermione was nodding. “Alright then, so what else do we know? Do we need to prepare anything?”

“Any preparation would probably need to be done magically.” He glanced over at Harry and seemed to read something in his face. “I can always check in with Lord Riddle, if you’d like..”

“That would be very appreciated!” Harry said, before Hermione had the chance to do something stupid like declining and opting for them going directly to Riddle. “Thanks a lot, mate!”

Barty grinned. “Sure, no problem.”

\- - -

Still, an hour or so later, Harry found himself taking a deep breath before stepping into Riddle’s carriage. It felt a little bit like plunging his head under water without knowing if there was a bottom. Terrifying, yet exhilarating.

Riddle was standing in front of his book case, in the process of picking down a couple of select books. They looked well-read, backs creased and covers worn. He nodded at them. “I see you got my invitation.” A pause, then he muttered, “At least this one wasn’t too subtle.”

In front of Harry, Hermione tried to stiffle a giggle, but it was obvious from her shaking back. Harry gave her a sour look to distract himself from the shiver of arousal that ran down his spine at Riddle’s pleased smirk.

“Barty seemed to believe you might benefit from learning a bit more about our plans,” Riddle continued, placing the book on the table. “And I do believe knowledge is the best weapon, so...” he gestured to the seating, “please.”

Harry nudged the still giggling Hermione in the direction of the table, a little bit less gently than he normally would have. It didn’t make her stop, but at least she was moving, and Harry could pretend that the shaking was just from walking.

Because his friends were the nice sort, Harry found himself ousted to one side of the table, while they took up the other. Riddle wasted no time in taking the seat next to him, sitting closer than what was really necessary. Hermione looked like she was about to start giggling again. Harry gave her his best glare to make her stop, but it was equally probable that it had the opposite effect.

“So,” Riddle began when they were all seated, and opened a book. It turned out to be an atlas, and he flipped past several detailed maps before stopping on one. The headline read ‘Austria’. “As you know, we’ll be heading to Nurmenard in Austria. It’s located in this area here,” he indicated an area on the map to the far west of the country. “The exact location is hidden by a spell, so I can only indicate the general area, but I will be able to lead us there. The train will take us as far as Liechtenstein and from there we have other arrangements.”

“What arrangements?” Hermione asked, finally acting with the seriousness Harry was certain the situation deserved. Especially as Riddle dropped one of his hands, resting it on Harry’s thigh as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He startled, and sent a quick glare in his direction. The other man didn’t even seem to notice.

“A.. an acquaintance of mine will be able to set us up with horses. Which reminds me, can you ride? If not, I’d be happy to provide further instruction.” The hand caressed Harry gently on the inside of his thigh.

“I-” Harry squeaked, “I, we know how to ride, Riddle!”

“Do you?” The lord’s attention was focussed fully on him now. “That’s great news. I’ll be certain to put that to the test later.”

Harry gaped at him and across the table Hermione was succumbed by giggles again. Ron pointedly looking anywhere but at them, face beet red.

“Do… do you mind?!” Harry hissed, uncomfortably aware of the hand on his leg and that Riddle was unabashedly making innuendos at him in front of his friends.

Riddle gazed back at him, blinking as if surprised. “What do you mean? The ride,” he turned back to the book and flipped the page, finding a map that focused on the area he had indicated, “is going to be quite rough. So your riding skills will be thoroughly tested.” All the while, his face was showing nothing but a mild curiosity, but his eyes were gleaming.

Harry raised an eyebrow. So that’s how he wanted to play it. Well, Harry wasn’t going to back down. He refused to be some bushing little virgin that Riddle could tease for his enjoyment.

“I see.” He replied and placed his own hand on Riddle’s leg. For the briefest of seconds, Harry would certainly have missed it if he hadn’t been paying such close attention, Riddle’s eyes widened. “Well then, I’ll be getting ready for a rough ride then.”

Lips curling into a pleased smirk, Riddle gave him one second of intense focus and his voice was low and sultry. “Make sure that you do… because I’m not planning on letting you rest.” Harry’s breath caught at that voice and Riddle’s eyes darkened. “Well, I say that,” he continued, turning away from Harry completely and withdrawing his hand, “but we will be making camp for the night as we go along. We’re not in any particular rush and its better to have a good rest before we reach the actual tower.”

Harry blinked, feeling at a sudden loss. Riddle’s retreat had been quick and unexpected, and he should probably count that as a win… maybe. Harry wasn’t certain. It really didn’t feel like a win, and Riddle’s last move hadn’t felt like it either. It had, in fact, felt more like Riddle was ready to throw himself at Harry.

“So, Miss Granger,” The lord continued, “any further questions about our way there?” He wasn’t so much as glancing at the brunette, despite Harry’s hand still resting on his thigh.

Hermione shook her head, still gasping slightly from laughing. “I, uh… No..”

“Actually,” Ron spoke up instead. He was staring at the map with intensity now. “What about equipment? An area like that, seems like there might be things needed...” he faltered a little, but still didn’t look up. “Like, I dunno, trees falling and stuff...”

“Excellent question, Mr Weasley, but one that has also been taken care of. We’ll be provided kits by my acquaintance that should contain most everything that we will need. And for further complications.. well, let’s just say that magic can be quite a useful tool as well.”

Ron shrugged, eyes fixed on the map. “Sure.”

“Wonderful. Then, let’s go over the plan once we’re at the tower, shall we?” Riddle continued without further ado, closing the first book and bringing up the next one. It was more of a folder of papers than a book, and inside there was a plain drawing of a tall tower. “This is Nurmengard.”

It was a rather odd structure. Nothing but a tall, round stone building with a couple of gargoyles at the top and a barred gate for an entrance. Other than that, there were no details. No windows, gaps or ways to easily get inside. And judging by the scales, it would have to be a huge tower, with a base as wide as the length of two train carriages. Which meant the tower would be ridiculously tall. And as such, visible from far away. It didn’t seem like the kind of building meant to be a secret.

“This is, unfortunately, the only schematics I can give you.” Riddle shrugged. “Nurmengard was Grindewalds pride, and not easily dismantled. So most of the magical protections around it are still in place, which means it’s protected from surveillance. However, as I know where it is, that won’t be a problem. And for the ward that keeps people out – well, that shouldn’t be any particular problem for our man here.”

Even as he said it, he still didn’t look at Harry. Which was strange, very strange. Frowning a bit, Harry gently ran his fingers along the inside of Riddle’s leg and the man stiffened, muscles going tight underneath his hand. Riddle’s face froze in a blank mask.

“How come no one’s seen it?” Ron asked, apparently oblivious to anything happening. Harry was pretty certain his eyes had yet to leave the papers on the table. Hermione seemed too busy to calm down properly to notice anything at all.

“… Magic, Mr Weasley,” Riddle replied after a second, face once again polite. “Grindewald had a rather bad prosecution complex toward the end of his reign and devoted much time and effort into making his home impenetrable. So it’s not that people haven’t seen it, they are simply magically blocked from describing it, or its location. However, I can provide a bit more detail. And we’ll take the time needed to scout the area when we get there.”

Curious, and a little bit amused by Riddle’s reaction, Harry gave in to his urge and stroked his leg again. This time he was expecting the way the muscles tensed up and the slight glint of something in Riddle’s eye. He stroked it again, and the lord twitched. Harry watched as he took a deep breath before the tension eased.

“So, we have windows on every floor, with the tower having a total of twenty storeys. Easily climbable for you, I’m sure. There are guards patrolling the tower, Dumbledore’s people who have been placed there to make sure no one tries to take up Grindewalds position. But it’s a distant location and manpower is precious, so there wouldn’t be more than five. However, once Harry is inside, none of us will be able to help because of the magical wards that are set to keep people out.”

“But how does Dumbledore get his guards inside?” Hermione asked.

Harry stroked Riddle’s thigh again and he stiffened, a hand pummelling down to grab Harry’s, giving it a warning squeeze.

“With a lot of effort, I assure you,” Riddle bit out. “He has studied Grindewald and has managed to find a way to temporarily bypass the wards, but he’s not keen on sharing how it’s been done. And whenever they change shifts, it takes him days to recover. So that is not an option for us, or I can assure you I would have done so ages ago.” He squeezed Harry’s hand harder when the thief wiggled his fingers.

“But once inside, and undetected,” Riddle continued, “This should be nothing but child’s play for Harry. Simply head up to the top floor and grab the box and bring it back to me. Easy.”

“Hmm, sure but...” Hermione said.

“But what, Miss Granger?” Riddle asked, but his mask of politeness seemed to be slipping.

“Well, there must be more traps inside, right?”

“Would you want to have traps inside your home? Grindewald made that place his home, and relied heavily on the protection of being undetected and, if things got that far, unreachable in his tower. Any traps would be magical, and Harry shouldn’t trigger them.” He squeezed Harry’s hand one more time before letting go, half tossing it aside. “So, I suggest you take this time to consider what strategy you would like to go with. We can reconvene later, if you have more questions.”

Hermione looked like she did have questions, but Riddle’s curt dismissal, followed by him standing up and gesturing at the door, had her biting them back and heading outside. Harry scampered up, following along.

Barty opened the door for them, but before Harry had the chance to step outside his wrist was grabbed in a firm grasp.

“Oh, Harry,” Riddle spoke over his head, “Stay a little, won’t you? I’d need to run some test, make certain you won’t have any problems with the magic.”

“Huh?” Wait, was that a thing?

“This might take a while, so Barty, why don’t you make sure Miss Granger and Mr Weasley have everything they need?”

Ron and Hermione had turned around, looking back in confusion. But Barty took one look at Riddle’s face before nodding and ushering them onwards, closing the door behind him.

“Wh-what do you mean, testing..!” Harry started, but was abruptly silenced as Riddle shoved him against the door, mashing their lips together in a rough kiss.

“Did you think it was clever, antagonising me like that?” He asked once he pulled back, still pinning Harry to the door. “I tried so hard to be good, but it was like you wanted me to ravish you in front of your friends.”

“Uh...” Harry blinked, slightly dazed as Riddle swept in again and pulled him into another kiss. This one slightly calmer, but with the full length of the lord pressed against him, Harry could feel the bulge of Riddle’s erection against his stomach. When he was finally allowed to breathe again, all Harry could think of to say was, “uh.. sorry..?”

Riddle smirked at him. “Oh, you’re not… tell me Harry, did it feel good to tease me like that?” His hands were trailing now, caressing Harry’s chin and tilting his head up more. “To make me lose control?” He lowered his mouth to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Were you hoping for me to keep you here after the meeting?”

“Ah.. I…” Riddle’s hand trailed downwards, flicking a nipple through Harry’s shirt. “Ngh… no, it wasn’t… didn’t… didn’t you say you needed to test something? M-magic!”

“Hmph, there’s plenty of time for that later.” The lord shook his head. “For now, I think it’s time I showed you something new.”

He didn’t wait for Harry’s answer before leaning down and capturing his lips, pulling him into a searing kiss. Harry grabbed Riddle’s shirt, squeezing the soft material between his fingers, hunting for the flesh underneath.

“Ngh...” Harry moaned as Riddle lifted his lips from his mouth and set his lips trailing down his cheek and neck. “Riddle...”

That stopped the lord, just enough that he moved millimetres away from Harry’s skin and he spoke into his ear. “Please, Harry, at this stage I think you should really be calling me Tom.”

It took a second for Harry to understand, so used to thinking of the tall man as Riddle. “Oh,” He blushed, “T-tom...” It was a hesitant taste of the word.

Riddle growled, his hands suddenly gripping Harry’s hips tight. “Oh Harry… hearing you call my name makes me want to throw you over the table and take you until you can’t help but scream loud enough for everyone in the train to hear...” He nibbled the soft flesh of Harry’s ear just once, before withdrawing, sinking slowly down to his knees. “But I promised I’d be gentle, didn’t I?”

The hands on Harry’s hips travelled towards each other, meeting at the centre of his belly. Riddle smirked as Harry twitched at the proximity, before swiftly undoing his trousers, guiding them down over his hips and to the floor.

Harry was starkly aware of his own erection, straining against his pants.

“Eager, are we?” Riddle, no, Tom, hissed before he suddenly leaned forwards, leaving open mouthed kisses against Harry’s stiff flesh under the cloth.

“Oh..!” Harry gasped, hands tightening into fists. He wasn’t sure why Riddle’s mouth on him, through a barrier none the less, was making him react so much, but he couldn’t deny that he was. He didn’t think any of Ginny’s soft touches had ever been enough to make him feel like that. Meanwhile, Tom was slowly working his way down, and then back up again, letting his mouth close in the occasional soft nip that felt better than it had any right to.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” He muttered as Harry’s lips uttered an unintended plea when Tom pulled back, “it’ll get better from here.”

He wasn’t lying. With a swift tug, Tom derived him of his pants, leaving him bared. The sight had the lord looking so pleased that for a second Harry considered never wearing clothes again, if it meant Tom would keep looking like that.

Then all thoughts blew out of his mind as Tom leaned forward, giving the same open mouthed kisses to his erection, but without a barrier. It was better. A lot better.

“Haa… Riddle…” Harry moaned, and Tom stopped, looking up at him through his eyelashes as if expecting something else. It was a desperate moment of fighting against the blankness of his mind to realise what he was waiting for. “T...tom!”

He hadn’t even completed the word before Tom resumed his actions with renewed vigour, loosing the teasing touch and suddenly taking the head of Harry’s erection into his mouth, giving it a small flick of his tongue.

That had Harry gasping, back lifting from the door as his hips wanted to snap forward, wanted to bury himself into more of that sweet heat. Tom’s hands grabbed his hipbones again, pushing him firmly back against the door. Harry whined at the loss of the heat of his mouth. Riddle was smirking up at him, tongue sneaking out and trailing across his lips.

“Now we’re getting somewhere...” He murmured, face still by Harry’s crotch but not touching. The fact was maddening.

“Please..!” Harry whined again, fighting against those hands to push forward.

Tom held him back with ease, but obliged him by leaning forward and giving a long, slow lick. “Since you’re begging so sweetly...” He teased, voice low and rough. He took Harry’s erection in his mouth again, laving his tongue over the head. Harry wasn’t intending to, but he struggled against those hands, fighting to go deeper, get more. Riddle kept holding him back, chuckling at the back of his throat.

He slowly, much slower than Harry wanted or had asked for, sunk downwards, taking in more and more of Harry. At some point, the thief realised his hands had grabbed on to Tom’s hair, clutching it in a way that must be painful. But Tom didn’t make a sound, and Harry couldn’t let go, too absorbed in his own pleasure.

Unlike Harry’s own faltering attempts, it was clear that Riddle knew what he was doing. Every stroke of his tongue had Harry shivering, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. When Harry came it was with gasp, bent forwards with his fingers clenching Tom’s hair and shirt tight.

Only then did Tom slowly withdraw, lips sliding over Harry’s over-sensitised flesh. He was still for a moment, hands still grabbing Harry’s hips and holding him in place. When he moved again, Harry found himself bent in half, flung over Tom’s shoulder.

“Wh-what the hell, Riddle!” Harry yelled, slapping at his back. Tom ignored him, slipping Harry’s shoes off as he turned and crossed the carriage. “Riddle!”

“Oh, don’t fret,” Tom said as he gently threw Harry down on a soft mattress, before kneeling down to pull Harry’s trousers of completely, staring up at him with intense eyes. “I’m just keeping my promise.”

Harry swallowed, wondering how it was possible to feel that shiver of arousal so soon again. Riddle smiled, satisfied. He leaned in to plant a kiss on Harry’s knee before crawling upward until he was looming over the thief. “Or would you like me to stop, darling?”

Harry didn’t think there was any way he could have possibly asked Tom to stop at that moment. Not when he was lying naked from the waist down on his bed, and when Tom was looking at him like that. He swallowed again, tongue flickering out to moisten his lips. “No.”

“Good.” Riddle grabbed Harry’s shirt, tugging at it until Harry complied, arching his back to let it be pulled up over his head. “Because I don’t think I’d be able to hold back.” He crossed the distance, pulling Harry into another searing kiss. Harry responded fervently, starkly aware of his own nudity pressing against Tom’s still dressed body. As arousing as it was, he needed Tom to get rid of them.

“Come on,” Harry gasped during a break in the kiss, tugging Riddle’s shirt out of his pants and pulling it up. Tom obediently rose up, letting him tug it off completely. His chest was firm under Harry’s fingers, the skin soft. Tom groaned slightly at his touch, grabbing Harry’s hips to pull him up until he was lying over the lord’s bent knees, arse firmly slotted around the long line of his erection.

“Look at you...” Tom hissed, grinding softly against him, “You look absolutely delectable, Harry...” He trailed his hand from Harry’s thigh, up his chest until he could smooth his fingers over the soft skin of his cheek. His fingers traced Harry’s lips, still slightly parted, before slipping inside. They tugged gently at Harry’s tongue and in response the thief sucked. Tom growled, pupils blown.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” Tom asked, pulling his fingers out and tracing a path back down Harry’s body, stopping only to teasingly caress Harry’s penis, already twitching in interest. Riddle smiled, then traced them further, gliding gently between his buttocks.

Harry followed those fingers, partly in arousal and partly in trepidation. He had been trying not to consider the implications of last night, hadn’t even started to consider that this was an option. But Tom’s gentle finger, moving in small circles without yet intruding, was making no mistake about it.

Tom must have seen something in his face, because without stopping with his movement he leaned forward, giving Harry a soft kiss. “I promised I’d be gentle, didn’t I?” His finger pushed inward, slowly and only briefly, before continuing with the circles and then he did it again and again, until Harry suddenly realised that it was fully inside. “That’s it...”

It felt strange, but Tom was kissing him again and honestly that was alright. Until the finger flicked something that made Harry jolt. “Wh..wha..”

Riddle smiled against his mouth. “There we go.” He did the same motion again and Harry gasped at the sensation. It felt nice, but not like any kind of nice he was used to. “Now we’re getting somewhere. I think you’re ready for a second finger, don’t you agree?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before pulling out almost completely, adding a second finger as he pushed back in. And that burned a bit. Harry hissed. Tom stopped and then the hand was gone. And so was the lord, taking two long strides from the bed and fetching a small bottle from the cupboard. Then he was back and crawling over Harry, flipping the bottle open and pouring it on his hand.

“My bad. This should make it better.” This time, there wasn’t a slow entrance, but the slick liquid from the bottle made his finger glide in effortlessly. The surprise had Harry twitching, but it didn’t hurt. The burn was gone when Tom added a second finger, moving the two in tandem and stretching the out, making Harry’s insides feel funny. But every time one of them hit that spot, it felt wonderful.

Pretty soon Harry was moaning, as Tom leaned over him, leaving little kisses over his chest and pushing his fingers in and out rhythmically. “I think you’re almost ready now,” he hissed, and oh, Harry shuddered as he added a third finger. “I want to hear how sweet you’ll sound once I’m inside you.”

“Do.. doesn’t your fingers c-count as you?” Harry gasped, giving a slight smirk and getting rewarded by Tom stretching his fingers out.

“Oh, if you’re feeling up to being a brat, you’re definitively ready.” With one last push, Tom pulled his fingers out and undid his pants to reveal his straining erection. It was a lot larger than three fingers.

Harry gulped, placing a hand against Tom’s chest. “Uh...”

Tom smiled, slow and somewhat predatory. “Don’t worry, darling...” he pushed against Harry’s hand, seeming pleased when there was no actual resistance. “I promise I’ll take it slow.”

He closed the distance, the tip of his erection rubbing against Harry insistently. To the thief’s surprise, it didn’t hurt. Not much, at least. And the satisfied groan that escaped Tom’s mouth as he slowly pushed his way inside was arousing enough for Harry to forget about the slight burn for a moment. Instead he watched Tom’s face, no longer carefully composed but slightly scrunched up in pleasure. The idea of being enough to break the man’s composure was making Harry feel heady. He wondered how far he could go, if he could make him lose it completely.

“Ah… Harry...” Tom groaned, suddenly pushing his hips forward with a snap, burying himself fully. Harry gasped, back arching from the sudden bolt of pleasure. “Shit.” The lord leaned over, a hand in Harry’s hair, and stealing a kiss. “You’re so tight..” he muttered, hips grinding against Harry. “And look how well you’re responding to me...” he rose up slightly, pulling out a little only to push in again. When Harry’s eyes flickered open he could see that Tom’s pupils were blown wide and fixed on him, taking in every twitch, devouring every moan.

He kept up the slow pace for a while, and the pleasure was slowly rising in Harry with every movement, with each whispered word of satisfaction. Harry gripped his shoulders and couldn’t stop his nails from digging in to the flesh underneath every time Tom angled his thrusts just right.

The lord let out a growl, voice deep. “That’s it, Harry...” he groaned, thrusting with a snap of his hips that had Harry throwing his head back and gasping. There was a pause, just a split second, while Tom took in his reaction and then Harry found himself bent almost in half as Tom grabbed his legs, hoisting his lower part up to get a better reach.

And then Harry could do nothing but cling on as Tom set a new pace, thrusting into him with a fierceness that hadn’t been there previously. One of his hands was gripping Harry’s thigh roughly and the other sneaked between them, grabbing Harry’s erection and matching the pace.

“Shit…!” Harry moaned, feeling like his nails were permanently embedded in Tom’s shoulder. He could feel his climax building, but it was the sight of Tom above him, mouth slightly open and sweat at his temple, that drove him over the edge. It was intense and for a moment it blocked out every other sensation.

When Harry finally got back to himself, it was to Tom thrusting a final time before he tensed up and stilled, his expression raw. Harry gazed up at him and felt slightly proud of himself. He had managed to make Tom lose control, after all.

\- - -

Harry was fading in and out of sleep when he felt something drip on his back. He raised his head from his arms and turned it, blinking up at Tom. Wasn’t he supposed to be lying next to Harry, where they had both collapsed some time ago?

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Just some tests.” Tom muttered something under his breath and a gust of wind made Harry shiver. So he hadn’t been lying when he said he wanted to test the extent of Harry’s magical resistance.

“Really, right now?!” Hadn’t he heard of enjoying the afterglow? Harry was tired enough that even considering moving was too much of a chore. And besides... he wriggled a little and blushed. He was feeling rather sore.

Tom chuckled. “What better time?” He ran a hand appreciatively down Harry’s back. “Right now I’ve got you exactly where I want you, and can be sure you aren’t going to be running away anytime soon. Additionally,” he leaned closer, “if I get this out of the way now, there will be time for other things later.”

Harry was determined he wasn’t going to blush. Not after... not after all that they had done. It was a ridiculous. Feeling that he was fighting a losing battle, Harry buried his head back in the pillow.

“Fine.” He huffed, voice coming out muffled. “But do I have to be awake for it?”

“Not at the moment.” Tom’s voice was tinged with amusement and Harry was certain that he was smirking. But he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of looking.

“Good. Wake me when it’s time for dinner.”

Harry let himself fall into a half-slumber, relaxing to the sound of Tom muttering quietly to himself and rousing a little on occasion when another couple of drops of water hit him. But he was resting peacefully, until there was a sudden sting on his back.

“What the.. what was that?!”

Tom frowned at him. “My apologies. It was an unintended consequence. It won’t happen again.” He laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder and urged him to lie down. Harry complied grumpily, but even the comfortable mattress and the gentle stroke over his hair was enough to let him to back to sleep.

Instead he laid and looked at Tom with half-lidded eyes. The lord was looking focused, whispering words to himself and making small gestures with his hand toward Harry. And there was… nothing. Tom’s expression didn’t change. Harry assumed that meant he had been expecting this. But now that he was awake, Harry realised that he had been feeling some things, so… had that been Tom just flicking water at him, or was it the result of a spell?

“So...” Harry began, “just… why are you splashing me with water?”

“I’m testing the extent of your abilities.”

“Uh-huh…” Harry shifted, trying to get more comfortable. “And what does that mean? I thought you said magic can’t affect me.”

Tom frowned, looking annoyed. “Yes, that was my assumption. But then you went and requested the locket as part of your payment, and it got me thinking...” He reached down, picking up a piece of paper and drew something on it and murmured a word. The paper burst into flame, and Harry could feel the heat of it.

Harry, in turn, perked up at the mention of the locket. He scanned Riddle quickly, trying to catch a glimpse of it. But it wasn’t around the man’s throat and it hadn’t been earlier either, or Harry would have seen it against his bare skin. It didn’t look to be in the pocket of his trousers this time either.

“What about the locket?” the thief asked, trying not to be too obvious. Maybe he could get Tom to accidentally reveal where he had hidden it. Not that it would be a problem, obviously Harry would get it once the job was done, but now that it was mentioned… he really would have it now, rather than later. And as they were travelling with Riddle, the man could hardly say it was out of his possession right then, anyway.

“Heh.” Tom smirked at him. “Did you really think it would be that easy?”

Harry opened his eyes wide, faking an innocent expression. Had he been caught? “What do you mean?”

“You don’t need to worry, if you manage to get the box without being spotted, I’ll give you the locket.”

“I wasn’t worried.” Harry turned his head away, attempting to be nonchalant.

“Of course not.” Was that a patronizing note in his voice? Harry decided to ignore it.

“So then,” he turned back, because talking to the wall was ridiculous, “what did the locket make you think of?”

Tom stopped in the middle of a new drawing. He tilted his head. “Hmm. The nature of magic, I suppose.” Harry raised an eyebrow at him and Tom shrugged. “Consider it this way. There are two different ways that magic work. One is simply to follow the caster’s will and make something happen, regardless of what is in it’s way. It’s physical. Like this.” He made a complicated gesture with his hand and with a splash, water crashed into Harry’s side like he had thrown it. Then he did the same to the side and Harry watched as the water fell harmlessly unto the floor of the carriage. “Mostly it’s simple magic that can be performed with the flick of a hand. The other way, however, is related to the existence of a target.” He gestured to the door. “Take my wards, as an example. They are inert, invisible and immaterial until someone that hasn’t been granted access tries to get in. Then they react with a rejection. Without a catalyst, they simply do not exist.”

“But I can get in.” Harry said, frowning.

“Exactly.” Tom was smiling. “And that is what makes it so intriguing. It’s not that you’re immune to magic, or you wouldn’t have been able to be hit by that water before, but it’s more like...” He paused, rather uncharacteristically in Harry’s opinion. “It’s more like, magic doesn’t register you, and as such, will not have any effect.”

Harry was silent, but his eyes spoke volumes. He wasn’t sure quite what Tom was suggesting, but it sounded very odd to him.

“To put it in other words. As far as magical spells are concerned, you don’t exist.”

“But I do exist!”

Tom laughed and put his hand on Harry’s back. It felt large and warm. “Indeed you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man this chapter was tough to write, it took me forever. And I'm slightly terrified of posting it cause.. there's just so much smut. And somehow it feels more graphic than what I've written so far... so yeah, I'm just gonna leave it here and then go hide.
> 
> On another note - oh Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, don't start games if you aren't ready for the other person to participate :D


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